Without Love
by JMBangelgirl
Summary: True love...cherished, treasured, sacred. What if the Father's plan was for two angels to experience it? (AM fic) COMPLETE
1. Chap One, The Plan

By the way, sorry Andrew isn't in this chap or the prologue. I just don't have room for him until next chap.

****

CHAPTER ONE

The Irish angel pushed her way through the heavy, metal doors. Her eyes scanned all the banners and posters that layered the walls and bulletin boards. There was a long banner posted up on the one of the beams on the ceiling, advertising the Snowball that was coming up. There was another, down the hall that advertised a rally against school shootings. That hurt Monica to think of the other week. Now it haunted her to come in her. She new it shouldn't, but it did. Why was death such a big deal now? It had always been all right with her, but when death occurred like this, it wasn't.

"Monica?" a young voice asked. Monica whirled around and saw a teenage boy standing there.

"Bobby, I just saw your mom at…what are you doing here, Bobby?" Monica asked, suddenly realizing that it was way after school time.

"Well, I…Monica, can you keep a secret?" Bobby asked. 

"It depends on what kind of secret it is," Monica advised. "If it's something important…"

"Monica," Bobby said. "Just shut up and listen!"

"I beg your pardon?" Monica asked in astonishment. This wasn't the sweet boy that was in her class. This wasn't that kind teen that got straight A's on his midterm report card. Who was this? This was certainly not the Bobby that Monica knew.

"Oh, man, now I'm going to have to…just come with me!" Bobby ordered. Suddenly, he whipped a gun in Monica's face and smirked. "Took advantage of me, did you? That's why you have to keep this secret. There's going to be a shooting here tonight, and you're going to be part of it." Monica dropped her jaw but willingly followed the young boy. How could Jane be her assignment when Bobby was really the one who needed help?

"Bobby, I don't understand…"

"Just shut up! Don't you know the meaning? If you don't, then I'm afraid you will be the shooting. But if you accept your instructions, then you will just be a part. Now I'm bringing you to the boys and they'll instruct you." 

Bobby carefully smoothed his jet, black hair down, slipped a pair of sunglasses on, and pulled the ends of his black, leather jacket around him. He still kept one hand on the gun, his fingers locked on the trigger. Monica realized that if she made any move, and her being in human form, he would shoot and she would be wounded. Was this part of the Father's plan, or was this just a side road in it?

"Dang, Bobby, what's she doing here?" another teenage boy asked when Bobby led Monica into a small hideout behind the school. 

"Her life is on hold," Bobby said with a smirk. "She's our bait."

"Ah, the genius reigns again," a girl said with a laugh. Right away, Monica recognized every teenager. They were all in her class, and for a moment, she felt the guilt and blame of them turning like this.

"So, _teacher_," the girl spat. "How are you going to teach us if you're…"

"Hey, Sydney, don't be getting ahead of yourself. We don't quite know what we're going to do with her, yet. She might just have to end up dead, 'cause otherwise she'll call the police right after we release her," Bobby pointed out. He pushed her to the ground and Monica landed with a big thump next to a pile of guns.

"Or," the other boy suggested. "We can leave her with permanent damage." He laughed.

"You know, man," Bobby said. "That just might be a nice idea. We could…"

"Sorry I'm late," a red head kid said as he joined the group. "No, no!" he exclaimed when his sight fell upon Monica. "She can't be here…she's…"

"Yeah, Roy, don't you think we know? But Bobby here had to drag her into this," Sydney said, twirling a lock of her blond hair. Her deep blue eyes pierced the darkness. "She's out bait."

"Ah," Roy said. "Aaron, then what are we going to do with old Mister Matters? I thought he was out bait."

"No," Aaron said. "He's our target. He gets here every night at six and it is five forty-five. We've got five minutes to load, five minutes to settle in our positions, and five minutes to wait for our target."

"And then where does _she_ fit in?" Sydney asked, pointed to Monica who quietly sat by the brick wall, her eyes not leaving the gun that was aimed right at her head.

"She'll distract him," Bobby said. He looked at his three friends. "Roy, you brought the ammunition, didn't you?"

"Of course." Roy emptied out a black bag. Monica almost gasped when she saw all of the bullets pour out.

"You need all of those for just one man?" she asked softly, hoping her punishment wouldn't be the gun.

"Who said it was_ just_ him?" Aaron asked sarcastically. "Don't you know, you being one of the teachers, that six is when they arrive?"

"They?" Monica asked weakly. 

"The board," Bobby answered with a wild grin. "I still tend to surprise you, don't I?" 

"I wouldn't call it a surprise, Bobby," Monica told him solemnly. "I would call it disappointment."

"Hey," Sydney cried. "It's five-forty six. Ha, you guys missed your chance."

"We better make a move on it! Monica, you follow my instructions as we go. No time for that now," Bobby said. "Ron, load, Aaron, map, and Sydney instruct. Here's your walkie-talkie. I'm heading for the door."

"All right," Ron said. He smiled. "Monica, you ready?" Monica shook her head but could not refuse when he jerked her to her feet. "It doesn't matter if you are or aren't. We're going now!"

Monica gulped as she felt the gun stab her neck. She was doing all she could from crying out. Right now, praying was all that was eligible. Would God let this plan of the teen's go through tonight? 

__

No, Monica thought,_ He can't. He wouldn't, would He?_


	2. Prologue, The Father Leadeth Me

Title: "Without Love"

Author: Justine M. Benoit

Disclaimer: All characters from TBAA belong to Martha Williamson and CBS productions. 

****

PROLOGUE

It was a cold day and the fierce winds were biting at her skin. She pulled her long coat around her tightly and shivered. The snow layered harshly about her shoulders, the ends of her shoulder length, auburn hair drenched. She brushed away a few snowflakes that landed on her eyelashes and dripped onto her nose. Her brown eyes pierced the hazy day with wonder. 

__

Why was this assignment so much harder than the others were? Was it because the assignment was all about love? Angels couldn't love and that was what Monica had been thinking so much about lately. _No, I've done assignments like this before. But why, now, of all times is it bugging me?_

"Angel Girl," an older woman called from across the street. She pulled her scarf around her cheeks tightly as she waved to her charge. Monica looked up and managed a smile as sight of her supervisor came into view. 

"Tess," Monica said warmly as she fell into a longing embrace. Tess' strong arms held her steadily for a few moments. "Oh, Tess, I've missed you so much. I prayed that the Father would send you to me. I'm in such a mess right now. I can't get through to Jane," the Irish angel explained. "She just won't go back to Greg. And now, Andrew is starting to show up wherever Jane and I are. I'm afraid she's going to die and I'll go down as the angel who couldn't fix a marriage."

"The point of your assignment is not to _fix_ Jane and Greg's marriage, but to_ strengthen _it, Miss Wings. God fixes marriages and angels do the handy work. If you can show Jane what _true_ love is, she'll do her part and then God will do his. The Latin word for angel is messenger. We deliver the messages and miracles and the Almighty works them," Tess encouraged. She stroked her angel girl's hair affectionately and smiled. "Do you understand now, Baby?" Monica nodded.

"It sure is going to take a big miracle for this assignment," Monica prompted.

"There's no such thing as a 'big miracle', Monica," Tess told the Irish angel. "Each supernatural work that the Father performs is something glorious. You could call a rejected person getting a job a miracle, but then you see someone cured instantly from cancer. Just because a person being cured from a disease is much more noticeable then someone getting a job, God performed it and that means it's special."

"Thank you, Tess," Monica said. She gave her supervisor one last hug and skipped across the street, almost happy that her assignment was taking her into a coffee shop for the time being. She felt the warm blast of air hit her skin as she entered the small café. Right away, her eyes caught sight of a middle-aged woman seated in a small booth.

"Jane?" Monica asked. The woman looked up and slightly smiled.

"Monica, right?" she asked. Her blue eyes scanned the newcomer. Monica nodded. "You work at the school."

"Yes, ma'am," Monica replied. "May I?" She motioned towards the seat exactly parallel to Jane. Jane nodded and gestured in agreement. 

"So, can I buy you coffee?" Jane asked, her eyes focused in a magazine.

"That'd be mighty nice," Monica said eagerly. "It's awfully cold and I was looking forward to getting something warm into my stomach." The Irish angel rubbed her stomach and laughed. "How 'bout I buy," she suggested.

"No, I already offered. Here, take this ten and go help yourself. After all, you gave my son straight A's on his report card. Any nice teacher of my son is a friend of mine." Monica laughed. 

"He deserved them. He really is a smart boy. You did a good job of raising him." Monica willingly accepted the dollar bill. She smiled and stood up, her eyes already gazing at the mocha latte that was on the menu on the wall. 

In no more than a minute, Monica returned to the booth and handed Jane the change. She thanked her and sipped her latte in delight.

"Ah," Jane said. "Even gives the right amount of change back to me. Would you like to baby-sit my son?" she joked after she poured the money into her purse. Monica giggled. 

"If you'd like," she said. 

"Really, Monica? He's fourteen years old and a troublesome teen," Jane said her voice now serious. Monica nodded sincerely.

"He's a nice boy, Jane. By the way, I don't want to be rude or anything, but can I talk to you about him?" Monica asked politely in her Irish lilt.

"Sure," Jane agreed. "What's up?"

"Well, it's also about you and your husband," the auburn said solemnly.

"Oh, gosh, did he tell you about _that_?" Jane asked, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She slammed her magazine on the table. "Now what? Did he announce it yesterday at the assembly?"

"No, Jane, actually, he talked to me about it in private and after that, he's been getting A's. Before that, he…"

"I know, I know. Before that he was getting all D's and F's, right?" Jane asked with a sigh. "What did he say about it?" But before Monica could answer, she drew up her purse and stood up. "You know what? I don't even want to talk about it. I'm out of here," Jane announced and quickly paced off and out of the door, only the sound of heels clicking on the floor and bells ringing as the door slammed filling the café. 

"Oh, Father, what is wrong with me? This whole assignment no one has listened to me!" Monica exclaimed in a quiet prayer. Just then, the broad figure of Tess walked through the door. The supervisor sat down in the booth, opposite of Monica. Immediately, her eyes met her charges.

"Miss Wings, if it's just me, your assignment just walked out that door and into the cold, winter day. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know," Monica said, putting her head in her hands. "I just don't know."

"Well, I do," Tess said. "You're going to ask the Father and see what He says."

"Yes, ma'am," Monica said slowly. She shut her eyes and buried her face in her arms and leaned on the table. A few moments of silence passed and finally the Irish angel popped up from her hiding place. "He told me to go back to the school."

"Well, then?" Tess said. She glared at her angel girl with stern eyes.

"Then I suppose that means I have to," Monica said, her cheery Irish lilt gone. She wasn't in the mood for going back there, especially after what had happened.

"Good, Baby, I think you've got it. Now, what's that you're drinking there?" the supervisor asked innocently. Monica couldn't stop from grinning. 

"A mocha latte…_decalf _mocha latte," she added quickly. 

"Would this place happen to have doughnuts?" Tess asked. She turned her eyes towards the ground, not wanting to meet her charge's gaze. 

"Why?" Monica asked suspiciously, though she already knew.

"Just wondering."

"Yes, Tess, here." The auburn handed her supervisor a few dollar bills and stood up. "I guess I'll be off then."

"I guess you will, Baby," Tess said, giving Monica a look that said "thank you". Monica shot Tess a "you're welcome" look before she turned to walk out the door, again to enter the brisk wind. 


	3. Chap Two, The Fight

If you've been waiting for Monica and Andrew interaction, here's the chap! (It's not going to be good interaction either-you'll see)

"Okay, let's go!" Aaron yelled into the walkie-talkie when his eyes fell upon a figure walking towards the door. "Get Monica in position!"

Suddenly, Monica felt her body being shoved towards the sidewalk. She was too weak to stop Bobby, and so confused for God hadn't answered her latest prayer for help. Perhaps he would send someone-maybe Tess or Andrew. Andrew had been there wherever she and Jane had been. 

Monica stopped in her tracks, even though she knew the gun was still pointed at her from a distance. This wasn't the janitor or one of the men board members. This was a female and Monica could recognize those blue eyes from anywhere. 

"Wait!" Monica yelled, her Irish lilt faded. "This is not…" Her ears rung with the gun fire sooner than she had wanted them to-if she had wanted them to at all. The woman in front of her turned her head, her blue eyes filling with sudden fear. It all happened so quickly. It seemed like slow motion to Monica, as the bullet whizzed right passed her and into the head of the woman. "No!" Monica screamed as she threw herself over the woman. Bobby, realizing that something was wrong, darted over to the Irish angel. 

"Get off!" he ordered. He jerked Monica's arm and she let out with an ear-piercing pain.

"No, Bobby, you just don't understand, do you?" Monica asked through tears. Her brown eyes were red.

Bobby turned the body over; half comprehending that this was a woman. He lifted up his bloodstained hand to his mouth. There, on the ground lay Jane, his mother.

"No!" he murmured and stepped back. He peered into Monica's tear-stained eyes and dropped his jaw. "That's not possible!" he whispered. Suddenly, sirens arose in the background and Bobby froze.

"Come on, man," Ron called from behind. "Let's get out of here!"

"No, Bobby!" Monica cried. 

"Take her with you!" Aaron shouted behind his shoulder as he motioned towards Monica.

"There's no time!" Sydney screamed. "Let's scram!"

The four ran off into the distance, leaving Monica and Jane alone. Monica crawled over to Jane and gathered her in her arms. She paid no attention to the wounds of her own. The second bullet had skinned her and her body was bruised. She buried her head in Jane's hair and softy wept. 

"I don't understand, Father. Why is this happening? She's my assignment! This can't happen!" She looked up to see a bright light shining about the area.

"Monica," a soft voice whispered. "You have to step aside."

"Andrew?" Monica asked. "No, you can't!"

"Yes, I have to," he answered softly.

"No! Greg and her still have to work things out! I haven't gotten through to her yet!" Monica cried.

"Monica, sometimes there are things that God didn't mean to happen, but they carry on because someone decided to do something different than what the Father had in mind. Humans have free will and so do angels…" Andrew paused and looked down. "Monica, you had a choice and you took it…" his voice wavered.

"So you're saying that I made the wrong decision?" Monica asked, astonished. "When did I do that?"

"God had planned for you to reveal yourself tonight, but you were overcome with fear," Andrew explained. Monica stood up from the ground and came to equal eye level with Andrew.

"I tried, Andrew! I tried. It's not my fault that she died!" Monica hollered.

"I never said that…"

"Oh, but you meant it, Andrew, you know you did. Just because you have to deal with all these deaths every day doesn't mean that you have permission to bring your frustration out on me!"

"I'm not frustrated, Monica, I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly. Just because you're upset about tonight doesn't mean you get to blame me for all this."

"I never did," Monica said, her lilt filled with anger. 

"I know that you're angry because of all this. So am I," Andrew prompted.

"Why didn't you give Bobby and her some time? Huh? That would have been mighty nice of you, Andrew!" Monica yelled. She and Andrew were both almost surprised at her tone.

"I'm just doing my job, Monica. It's not my fault that God didn't have it planned for Greg and Jane's marriage to come together. Who knows, maybe this will help Greg _and_ Bobby a little bit. But, Monica, you could've stopped this and don't you try to get out of this situation. Admit it, you were too scared out there!" Andrew said, trying to break through Monica's feelings, though his own feeling were turning on him.

"No, I wasn't!" Monica argued.

"Then why didn't you follow God's plan and take the pain for Jane…"

"As far as I was aware, I was not supposed to take any _pain_ for her. I was just supposed to be with her…"

"You call watching her…"

"Angel Babies!" Tess cried, breaking up their argument. "Really, save the world and me a favor and settle this at once! I'm really disappointed in you both!" she said sternly. Her brows came together in an angry expression. "Now, Andrew, are you giong to do this job or does Adam here have to?" Tess pointed at the other angel of death beside her.

"I would if Monica would step aside," Andrew confirmed.

"Now wait just a second!" Monica exclaimed. "You're saying that I'm in the way? That's why you didn't take her? You could've just asked me nicely and I would've!"

"I did! What do you think my first words to you were?" he asked with a furious expression on his face. 

"You always have to make things so difficult, don't you?" the auburn asked sarcastically. "So difficult!" she mumbled.

"You're the one who's making things difficult. You won't move. Now, with an angel of God blocking a body, how is anyone supposed to do their job?" Andrew asked. 

"You could simply just step around me!" Monica snapped. 

"Can't you just move to make things a _wee bit_ easier," Andrew asked sarcastically. Monica crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

"Not if you make fun of me!" she stormed.

"You know what?" Tess asked in a loud voice. "Adam, just get in there," Tess ordered. Adam nodded and shot his friend and fellow angel of death a disappointed glance.

"At least Adam does his job," Monica said. She rolled her eyes at Andrew.

"Hey, girl, I was trying to do my job, but a obstinate little angel girl wouldn't move. So," he continued. "How did you expect me to?"

"I already went through this," Monica sighed. "Just go around…"

"Angel Babies!" Tess yelled. She spoke so loud that her voice drained out the sirens. "For heaven's sake, leave it be! It is over and done and Jane is dead. Greg is now just about to receive a call and Bobby is a fugitive. Monica could be accused of assisting in murder and Andrew, you and Miss Wings better settle this at once. I'm not leaving until you do!" Tess snapped.

"Fine," Monica said. She walked off and over the school landscape. "Then I'll leave!"

Andrew looked up at Tess, his face turning red in embarrassment. He couldn't meet the brown eyes glaring at him so he turned his gaze back to the ground.

"I guess that was pretty bad," he said quietly.

"You bet it was!" Tess exclaimed. "In all my years as you two's supervisor, I have never come close to seeing this."

"I've never come close to experiencing this," Andrew said gravely. He finally locked his emerald green eyes with Tess'.

"Well, Angel Boy, are you going to go and apologize to her?"

"Not until she thinks about it!" Andrew answered, seeming to be in amazement at Tess' question. What he didn't realize was that Tess was in amazement at his answer.

"Excuse me Mr. Wings, but I think you just gave me the wrong answer. What have you learned from the Scriptures?"

"I don't know right now, Tess. I need to think some things over," Andrew answered quietly.

"You bet you do!" Tess said in an angry lilt. 

As she watched Andrew walk off in the opposite direction of Monica, a tear rolled down her dark skin. 

"Father, what now?" she prayed. 


	4. Chap Three, Grudges

"Bobby, what were you thinking? You just left her there! Now we'll all get caught!" Aaron screamed. "Bobby?" he asked a despondent teenage boy. 

"Huh?" Bobby asked, abruptly flinging his head up. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah," Aaron said, rolling his eyes. "There he goes again; off in his own little world."

"Yo, man, are you okay?" Sydney asked in a tender voice. "You don't look so swift."

"I'm fine," Bobby answered and nodded. "Just a little shaken."

"Why? It's not like you've never shot anyone before," Ron said, adjusting his glasses onto his eyes. "Just because it was a woman doesn't make any difference. They're all low life creatures, not even human beings through our eyes, right?"

"No," Bobby hollered and stood up. "You just don't understand, do you?" Ron and Sydney shook their heads while Aaron laughed hysterically. 

"Of course they don't, wimp," he laughed. "They've never seen your mother."

"You mean to say that she was your mom?" Sydney asked in disbelief. "Why didn't you say something last night. It's already morning, Bobby." Bobby said nothing but walked over to a tree. He surveyed the wood with his dark eyes and smiled. 

"Hey," he murmured. "At least my dad won't be at her anymore," he said to Sydney as she walked up next to him. 

"Is that what this is all about?" she asked gently. For a moment, you wouldn't have been able to tell that she was part of a gang and a "tough" girl. "Is that why you've been acting so strangely lately? You haven't been yourself and when you decided to join us, I couldn't figure it. You were mad and frustrated, weren't you?"

"Sydney, get off my back. I don't need some girl hanging around me. You should be a psychiatrist not a punk like the rest of us," Bobby snapped, accepting a cigarette from Ron. He puffed out circles of smoke in Sydney's face. Her eyes trembled with anger.

"What about you? Huh? What ever happened to that dream that you had?" she asked.

"What dream, Bob," Ron asked. "Come on, man, reveal the top secret info."

"I had no dream!" Bobby stormed, his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. 

"Yes, you did, Bobby Parmeter! Whether you like it or not, I know it too. You wanted to become a firefighter like your older brother, didn't you? Or, you wanted to join the army all so you could make a difference!" she said, giving him a hard punch in the arm. "Give me one of those!" she ordered to Ron. Ron nodded and threw her the cigarette pack.

"Maybe, once upon a time, but now that's over with! It's gone!" Bobby yelled, walking off.

"He doesn't deserve to be here with us," Sydney said. "He deserves a better life."

"What better life can you get?" Aaron laughed. 

"I know why you're here too!" Sydney said, walking over to him and grabbing his collar. "You're parents both died! Now, you are a street punk since you refused to go into child care."

"What do you know about my life, hun?" Aaron asked, throwing his cigarette onto the ground, fury rustling his expression.

"I know lots about all you guys. Now scram and go pick him up and get him onto his feet. He needs a few pointers about self-esteem." Sydney crossed her arms and fell down onto the ground with a thump.

"Fine then, Miss In-charge," Aaron said sarcastically. He stomped after Bobby who lurked somewhere in the forest.

"Angel Girl," Tess said, coming up behind a shaken young woman. Her auburn hair was tied back and out of her tear stained face. 

"Tess," Monica whispered. "Just go, I need to be alone right now."

"Good, then I'll stay with you," Tess said, trying to cheer her angel baby up. "What's on your mind?" Her voice was now a little more serious. 

"I think you know," Monica sobbed. "Nothing like that has ever happened, so why now?"

"Oh, Angel Girl." Tess wrapped her arms around Monica's shoulders and the Irish angel leaned back into her supervisor. "Something like this is bound to happen to anyone, anytime. It was just like Jane and Greg. Even the happiest marriage can fall apart."

"But Andrew and I used to be best friends," Monica prompted. She gazed into her supervisor's dark eyes, trying to find the answers she needed.

"_Used_ to?" Tess asked in a surprised tone. "What about _are_ friends. Just because your friendship was shaken doesn't mean that you two can't still love each other and care for one another."

"But, Tess, he probably hates me for all this and I still can't find forgiveness. If I'm around him, now, I feel so…so…"

"Afraid?" Tess asked her angel girl sternly. 

"I don't know. I can't tell. It's just an odd feeling, like something inside of me _doesn't_ want to be around him," Monica wept.

"Oh, Baby, that's because you're holding a grudge."

"A grudge?" Monica asked. "But I don't want to be holding a grudge."

"You know, Miss Wings, grudges don't hold themselves. There's always someone holding on to _them_. That's why some fights may last so long."

"I don't want this to last a long time, Tess," Monica cried. She looked up at her supervisor with blurry brown eyes.

"That's why you need to forgive him," Tess pointed out. A tear ran down her dark skin. "I hate to see you two like this."

"But I don't want to forgive him until he forgives me!" Monica said, her tone now changing back into an angry one.

"I think I'll leave you to figure this out on your own," Tess mumbled. She sat up and pushed Monica's auburn locks out of her wet face. "Please ask the Father for guidance, Monica, Baby. It's the only way out of this." 

Tess left Monica sitting in a field of grass, leaving only God and the Irish angel to work things out. For a moment, Monica sat in silence, but then whispered a silent prayer to the Heavens. The prayer wasn't what it could've been. Instead of asking God for help to forgive Andrew, she prayed for the angel of death to forgive _her_.

"Oh, God, why is this happening to us? Why won't she forgive me? What's stopping it?" Andrew asked his Heavenly Father. His voice trembled as tears rolled down his red cheeks.

"Because she is asking God for _you _to forgive her, while you are asking God for _her _to forgive you. You're not going to get too far like that, Andy," a male voice behind him said.

"Adam? What are you doing here?" Andrew asked surprised as his friend sat down beside him.

"Tess convinced me to come and talk to you, though I, myself, don't think I'm a good talker. But, God forbid me to, at least that's what Tess said." Adam joked. Andrew broke out in a quiet laugh.

"I just don't know, Adam. I _can't_ forgive her. It's too hard."

"Yo, dude, earth to Andrew!" Adam exclaimed. "If it's too hard for you to forgive her, how do you expect her to forgive you?"

"I guess I never thought about that," Andrew sighed. "Anyway, it's not any of your business. Can't you just leave me be for a while?" 

"Hey, just trying to be friendly," Adam said. "You know, one of these days you're going to have to trust her to do something for you and then you're going to find that your anger will get in the way." Andrew gave a disgusted glance to his fellow angel of death.

"Yeah, when would that happen?"

"Maybe sooner than you think. Hey, just trying to help, man," Adam said and he stood up. Andrew watched his friend through his green eye walk off and he gave a sudden sigh. 

"Is it true?" he prayed. "Will I have to trust her?"


	5. Chap Four, More Surprises

Monica awoke to the warm sun beating on her face. Her mind was relaxed and her body content. It was warm wherever she was and then the thought struck her that she might have fallen asleep in the meadow. She turned over on her side and then suddenly opened her eyes. It was winter and it couldn't possible be warm out. Where was she?

She sat up so fast that she could feel her heart slam against her chest. Immediately she felt the soft covers among her legs. Her eyes gathered the large room painted a pastel yellow. The shades were up but the drapes were pulled. The sunray that she had felt had crept through an open spot in the drape. It didn't strike her until now that angels usually didn't fall asleep and where could she possibly be? 

As she was drowning in her own thoughts, she reached up to rub her eyes and a glimmer of light suddenly caught her eye. She stared in astonishment at her ring finger and gasped. There, hung an immense diamond, accompanied by several others on each side. Her blurry brown eyes widened in bewilderment. How could this be? Then, the thought of the ring being on her ring finger shattered her thoughts. Her draw nearly dropped from her face as she turned and looked down.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed in a whisper. Next to her, sound asleep, lay Andrew. He was slightly snoring. His blond hair was rustled wildly about his head and his eyes tightly shut. For a moment, Monica felt quite embarrassed, but having no memory of falling asleep here struck her almost hilarious. 

Suddenly, her eyes fell upon something, at the time being that she regretted seeing. She, not thinking of Andrew being asleep, grabbed his left hand and took it up close to her eyes. She scanned it in shock, and then finally coming to her senses, threw his hand back down. She put her hand on her forehead and felt like screaming. His ring finger held a single gold band. 

Andrew, startled by the jerking and tugging at his hand, stirred and shot his eyelids open abruptly. He yawned and quickly sat up. Right away, his eyes fell upon Monica who impatiently sat beside him. 

"What's going on?" he asked despondently. He saw a disgusted Monica holding her head in her hands. She didn't speak, but by her expression, Andrew knew something wasn't right. "Monica?" he finally managed to ask. She turned and glared at him.

"You don't want to know!" she said in an upset Irish lilt. Andrew's emerald green eyes sparkled with confuse.

"I don't get it," he said. "Why are you…why are we…"

"Believe me, Andrew," Monica began. "You don't want to know." Now, a more alive Andrew took in his surroundings and became even more confused. He shook his head in jumble.

"Seriously, where are we, what is this, and why…"

"I honestly don't have all the answers." The Irish angel tilted her head to rest against the bedpost. Andrew quickly threw the covers off of himself and hung his legs over the edge of the enormous bed. 

"Wherever we are, this is a pretty nice place," the angel of death said in a cheery voice that was still scratchy from sleep. 

"Daddy, she's calling Joe!" a young voice said and suddenly a young boy leapt onto the bed. Andrew and Monica both jumped, each startled; Andrew a little more than Monica for poor Andrew still had no clue as to what was happening. 

"Brian, shut up! I am not!" a female voice called as a teenage girl came running into the room, glaring at the boy with an angry expression. 

"Then why were you on the phone with a boy?" he asked sarcastically, sticking his tongue out at the girl.

"Whoa! What's going on?" Andrew asked, his voice turning a little more serious.

"Dad?" Brian asked. "What's the matter? Did you have a bad dream or something?"

"I think I'm having one right now," Andrew answered the boy. He glanced back at Monica who had her eyes shut and was whispering a silent prayer. Even though no sound came from her voice, Andrew could understand her mouthing. She was also confused and about ready to scream; he could tell by the look drowning out her small face. 

"Mom," the girl called. Monica instinctually looked up and peered at the two newcomers. "He's lying! Tell him it's not true!" the teen demanded. She tapped her foot on the ground and clicked her nails across the surface of the dresser.

"You two, just leave us for a few minutes. We have to discuss a few issues," the Irish angel said frantically. 

"You bet we do," Andrew said, shooting a hopeful glance at Monica. She managed a sarcastic smile and the two newcomers left the scene. Andrew turned to face the auburn and sighed. "Is what I think happening really happening?" Monica gulped.

"I'm not sure but if my judgement is correct, yes." She looked up at the ceiling and puffed out a large breath.

"We're m…married?" Andrew asked quietly, almost in a whisper. Monica only held up her finger, showed off the rock, and nodded. 

"I think I know why too," she prompted. Andrew nodded in agreement. 

"Because of the little thing between us?" Monica nodded. "I knew something was going to happen, but I didn't think it would be this bad. Is this even legal?"

"Well, it had to take a miracle from the Father for this to happen, so not really, but under certain circumstances, yeah." Monica sat straight up and sighed. "Why did that thing between us ever start? I mean, I know how it started, but why?"

"Good question," said a familiar voice that filled the room with a stern tone.

"Tess!" Monica exclaimed and started towards her supervisor as if she wanted to be taken away and "back". 

"No, Baby, you stay right there. I can't say I agree with Him on this one but hey, who always does?" the supervisor asked. She flung her arms in the air and sighed. "I think He could've been a little less tough on you two, but this is what He planned."

"But why?" Andrew asked. He crossed his arms, a little embarrassed that his two friends were seeing him in his pajamas. 

"I don't know, Angel Boy. He usually tells me this kind of stuff, but today He decided not to."

"I'm so scared," Monica said, tears starting to stream down her face. "We've never been through anything like this, and I'm not quite sure what to do or expect."

"Me too," Andrew agreed. For a moment, he forgot the grudge against the auburn angel and wrapped his arm around her. "I guess we just have to expect what God has planned."

"Good answer, Mr. Wings, an angel after my own heart!" Tess said. Inside she felt like jumping for joy. 

"So, do you know anything we should?" Andrew asked his supervisor in an expectant tone. 

"Well…"

"Tess," a deep voice said. Suddenly a husky figure appeared in the room. "You know what you can tell and what you can't."

"I know, Sam, but this is such an awkward instance. I…" Tess began.

"Say good bye and then we have to move on," Sam said strictly.

"But you can't just leave us human with no info on what to do!" Monica whined. "That's preposterous!"

"I have to agree with her," the angel of death mumbled. "I can't believe that God would make us a married couple, with two children, and not knowing how to live like humans. Tess, Sam, we haven't been human for more than a few days at the most before. How will we know about insurance, kids, and job, and etcetera?"

"The Father gives you things when you need them, Andrew," Sam told him. "Now we must leave. Tess and I have another engagement somewhere else. Just remember who you are and who God is and you'll be fine."

"Bye, Angel Babies," Tess said, tears forming in her eyes, one even letting loose down her dark cheek. "I love you both very much."

"We know, Tess," Monica said. "We love you too." Andrew nodded in agreement and sighed. 

"Well, I guess you have to be on your way and us on ours."

"I guess you're right," Sam said. He turned to leave, paused and then spun back around. "You two be careful," he said sympathetically. "I'll pray for you."

"Well, that's a wee bit encouraging," Monica said, flailing her arms up in disgust. She stood up from the bed and tromped off into the bathroom that was on the opposite side of the room. 

"I think she means it's the most encouraging," Andrew said with a heavy breath. "She's upset right now and I can't say I'm not also."

"Neither can I." Tess reached down and squeezed her charge's hand. "Give her one for me, okay, Angel Boy?" Andrew nodded.

"But how does He expect us to get along like this?"

"The Lord moves in mysterious ways," Tess replied and then she and Sam disappeared. Andrew crossed his arms and stood up, moving towards the bathroom door. He gestured his hand to knock, but stopped and let his hand down. He shook his head and sat down on the bed.

"She'll come out when she's ready…when I'm ready…when we're both ready."


	6. Chap Five, Secrets, Revealed

Monica walked out onto the porch, a coffee cup in her hand. She sipped her coffee and then shivered in the wind of the changing seasons. It would be spring soon; anything to get this cold weather a break was fine for her. She tightened her robe around her and inhaled the fresh air. She tensed when she heard the door close behind her.

"Monica," a voice spoke. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I need to talk to you." Andrew stepped beside her and leaned against the railing. His eyes studied the beautiful landscape. There were mountains, valleys, rivers, streams, and forest surrounding the gigantic house. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Monica only nodded at his question. She didn't feel like speaking though something deep inside told her to.

"Is this going to be about what I think it is?" she asked in a soft Irish accent.

"You bet, Angel Girl," he said gently. The sound of him calling her angel girl once again tickled her ears. She had been longing for that, especially since Tess wasn't here. Early that morning had been rough; waking up to find her life-their lives had changed completely. But how long would it be like this? "I would like to forgive you," he said, shattering the silence and her thoughts.

"You would?" she asked in a bewildered, though shy voice.

"Yep," he replied. Absentmindedly, his hand crept over towards hers and the two met at the railing. He gathered hers up in his and drew them both in front of his chest. "Only if you would let me."

"I wish I knew how," she said delicately. "I wish I knew."

"It might take time, but, Monica," Andrew faced her, his emerald green eyes locking with her brown ones. "We can work this out together. After what happened, I wouldn't doubt that it will take a while of regaining each other's trust and love."

"Love," the Irish angel whimpered. "Until today, I thought it was impossible for angels to love like this…not that that's what we're doing…" her voice wavered off. "What I'm trying to say is that I thought it impossible for angels to end up in this type of situation."

"Nothing is impossible with God," Andrew pointed out. "You know that, right?"

"Of course, Andrew. But so many things seem impossible sometimes, like now, for instance."

"I share your thought," the angel of death agreed. "Like forgiveness…"

"Exactly," Monica said. "It's not that I don't want to forgive you, I do…it's just that…whenever I try, something deep inside of me makes more complications, and then…" she stopped for a moment and gazed deep into his eyes with sincerity. "And then I don't want to." Andrew nodded as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. 

"Monica, honey, I really don't get any of this now, and I know you don't either, but in God's time, we both will see and our eyes will be opened. There's got to be a true reason for all of this. What I thought funny was how it was like we had been here forever. Brian and Rose knew us right away and called us mom and dad." Andrew let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, and I had the instincts to answer Rose when she said mom. It was a weird feeling…I felt so…"

"Important?" Andrew asked, pulling Monica closer to him. "I know what you mean."

"Mom, Dad?" Brian asked, peeking his head out of the door. "It's mighty cold out here. Don't you guys think you should come in?"

"Yeah, we were on our way," Andrew promised. He smiled at his son and took Monica's other hand and led her into the house. "I think it's time for breakfast." Monica smiled and nodded in agreement. 

"My stomach is growling…never had that happen before."

"There are going to be many things happen that never have, Monica. We're human's now. Almost anything is possible."

"Anything was possible to begin with, Andy," Monica said in her Irish lilt. "You said so yourself."

"I suppose I did," Andrew laughed. "Nothing is impossible with God." 

The two angels walked into the house, headed for the kitchen. There was a whole different life ahead of them and many more surprises yet to come. Even though both confused, Monica and Andrew knew that God had a plan and that something good would come out of all this. 

"Andy?" Monica asked. "Did you ever think about being married before this?"

"Excuse me?" Andrew asked, almost spitting out his food that Monica had quickly whipped up. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Monica said. He just stared blankly in front of him, trying to flashback to anything he could grasp. The flashback came faster than he had expected. 

"I guess so, Monica," he replied, a little embarrassed. "Why? Have you?"

"Well, I've always thought about something like this, and when I did, I couldn't think of anyone else that I'd rather be married to than you…not that I'd _really_ want to." She stopped sudden; realizing her thoughts had just come out of her lips in words. 

"Well, guess what, honey, you _really_ are and instead of a thought, we're stuck together for a while." Andrew crossed his arms and stared at his wife from across the table. "What made you think of this all of the sudden?" His eyes were full of curiosity. 

"Our position," she answered. "This is kind of a wee bit odd…you know, to be married when all I've thought of you before was a friend."

"You know, Monica, I don't want to be sudden or anything, but I've already started to have changed feelings about you. You're right, before the love we shared was just friendly love, but now, this is more of…"

"True love?" Monica asked, serenity in her voice as if she didn't mind him bringing up the subject.

"Yeah, I guess. It's actually not too bad."

"Hey, look at this!" Monica exclaimed. She jumped up from her seat and ran over to the refrigerator. "I'm a journalist!" She gestured towards an article that talked about the books she had written. "And you're…oh, Andy, look at this, you're a firefighter." Her tone dropped from a happy one to a sad one.

"Cool, I never thought I had the talent." Andrew crossed his arms and grinned. "I suppose you're going to start crying because I'll have to leave on a big mission to Australia or something, right?"

"Oh my goodness, Andrew," Monica said. "I just thought of a few things. We're human…we can die."

"Don't think about that, honey, think about 'we're humans…we can live'." Andrew stood up and touched her shoulder. "What else did you think of?"

"We don't have a last name?" a frantic angel pointed out. Andrew stared at her, his brows deepening.

"At a time like this, you thought of that?" 

"What if some lady comes to the door, asking for me to enter in some sweepstakes where you win a lifetime supply of coffee, and I don't have a last name to fill into the drawing?"

"Why didn't I know that you would think of something like that, Angel Girl? Huh? Only you would." Andrew smiled. "But you do have a point there." He stopped and rubbed his chin with his fingers. "Wait a second!" He leapt out of the room and into the hall. Monica almost screamed at him when he went digging in her purse.

"Get out of there!" Monica hollered. She hit him in the arm and he whined sarcastically in pain. 

"Here!" he exclaimed. He held up a few credit cards and a driver license. "Monica…D.? What does that stand for?"

"Probably 'death'." Monica giggled as he shot her a raised eyebrow glance. "Check that one," she suggested.

"Here we go. Monica…Doe." Andrew couldn't keep from grinning when she hit him harder in the arm. "Okay, okay, it says Monica Dahline. Oh, whoopee, my name is Andrew Dahline. Sounds girlie." He winced and stuck out his tongue. "There, you satisfied? Now you can win all of your lifetime supply coffee sweepstakes."

"I'll be looking forward to that. Now get out of my purse, Andrew Dahline!" she said jokingly. He nodded. 

"Now, back to that breakfast. Oh, Monica, by the way, next time don't add coffee to the pancakes." The two laughed and headed back to the table.


	7. Chap Six, Mysterious Scheme

"Sam, when can I see them again? I'm really worried about my two angel babies." Tess folded her arms and glared at the other angel with an expectant expression. 

"After you finish this part of the assignment, Tess, dear. Now you know that you can't just pop in on them. They need some times to themselves." Sam gave her a loving pat on the back. 

"That's what I'm afraid of. I mean, what if they get attached to this? What if they _like_ life like this?" Tess asked in a worried voice.

"That's God's business, now I have to help those troublesome teens while you go your way. There's been quite a change of plans since this new situation has taken place," Sam told his charge. Tess nodded and disappeared. Sam sighed and whispered a quick prayer up to the heavens. "Oh, Father, give me strength, give Tess hope, and give Andrew and Monica trust."

"You're Sam, right?" a female voice asked. Sam looked up to see a young, blond petite coming out of a building. 

"Yes," he answered truthfully. 

"Good, they've been expecting you," the girl said. She carried a large bag and a few folders and binders in her left hand. She gestured towards the building in back of her. Sam read to himself the name: Chicago ChildCare and Services.

Sam walked through several revolving doors until he saw the face of a middle-aged man. Sam didn't have to read the nametag to know that this was who he was looking for. 

"Greg, I presume?" the angel asked. The man looked up, smiled, and nodded. 

"You must be Sam." The man motioned him over to sign a few papers. "We're glad to have you on the squad. You'll start work this afternoon if that is all right with you," Greg told Sam. 

"Yes, I'll be looking forward to this," he said eagerly. Greg handed him a few sheets of papers that told him what cases he would be working on and where to go.

A young man with black hair stepped into a fire hall. He looked around him and immediately his eyes fell upon Tess who sat behind a desk.

"Are you Brian?" Tess asked with a grin, for she already knew who he was. 

"Um…yes. Where's Derek?" he asked nervously.

"I'll be filling in for him for a few weeks. He's on vacation. So, do you always come in early?" Tess asked Brian.

"Yeah, chief appointed me captain. Why is Derek gone?"

"I told you, Baby, he's on vacation. You can take care of problems with me," Tess said sincerely. 

"Okay," Brian mumbled. He walked into a small room towards the back of the hall. It was a training room where the fighters worked out. "Oh, man, Jim," he said to a fellow fighter. "The plan's off." Jim looked surprised at his friend.

"What do you mean, Brian?"

"Derek is gone. He's replaced with Tess and I wouldn't even dream of having her instruct on this." Brian laid his back down on a training bench and slowly lifted the weight above him. "Now what? Derek's not getting back for a few weeks."

"Maybe we can just pull this of ourselves," Jim suggested.

"Yeah, right. But wait! Maybe we can get some of the boys to join in. I'm sure Tom and Kevin would go for it," Brian told his friend.

"I bet you're right. Ah, the genius of the hall reigns again. Perfect."

"But if they don't…" Brian wavered. "Then we'll be caught immediately."

"I guess we'll have to make them," Jim said in a haunting tone. "Ever heard of…"

"Aren't you boys going to hurry it up? The others are already outside doing their usual rounds," Tess said, entering the room. She instantly put a finger of her nose, realizing what terrible, sweaty odor filled the room. 

"Oh, yeah, I guess," Jim said. He and Brian set the weights back and got up, puffing and wiping sweat off their foreheads. 

"Let's go," Brian said. He gave a convincing wink at Jim, thinking that Tess didn't see. What he didn't know, was that she had been in the room, invisible but there, the whole time. 

"Oh, Father," she said quietly. "Please, unless it be your will, don't let those kids pull this off. 

****

*Sorry, this was a short chap. Confused yet? Maybe if you think back to the beginning of the story to where they mentioned firefighters, you'll start to piece it together better. Just a note, there were two total times that I mentioned firefighters in the story. They all fit together. You'll see*


	8. Chap Seven, Missing Children

"Tell me something, Monica," Andrew asked. His emerald eyes scanned a book with interest. "How can all these men and women take such risks to be firefighters. It seems like such a scary job."

"And being human isn't, Andy?" Monica asked. She sat at the computer, busing herself in an article for the paper. She let out a giggle and then stopped and took a sip of her coffee. 

"I mean, look at this…" Andrew pointed towards an old newspaper clipping about a wildfire in California. The picture was graphic. There were so many people lying on the ground, whether dead or in critic condition. "I have to do _this _for a living?" For a moment, Monica's expression was sympathetic until she remembered what had happened between them both. 

"Hey, at least you make money," she announced and turned back to the computer.

"You haven't forgotten about it yet, have you?" Andrew asked in a solemn tone. Monica didn't respond. He shook his head in frustration and sighed. "Ever heard the saying 'forgive and forget'?"

"Forgive and forget, Andrew? What about you, have you forgiven me and forgot everything that's happened?" Her Irish lilt was rushing with anger. "And no, I haven't yet."

"You know what, I think this big plan of the Father's is just making things worse. I'm going to take a walk," Andrew declared. "I won't be back until later."

"Fine, miss dinner. It's almost ready," Monica told him. She still didn't look up from the screen.

"I'll buy my own," the blond told her. He paced out of the room and slammed the door behind him. 

"See if I care," Monica said mockingly under her breath. She rolled her eyes. "Suppose I should've mentioned this when you were here, but we don't have any money on us." She shrugged her eyebrows and typed more. 

"Yo, man, what are you doing way out here?" Aaron asked his friend. He puffed out smoke from his cigarette. "Don't ask me why _I_ came to get you, but Sydney went into one of those modes of hers and totally blew the socks off of us guys." Bobby kept his back turned to Aaron the whole time. "What's up with you, man? She was just your mom. It's not like she was important or anything."

"Get off of me!" Bobby screamed. He pushed Aaron down to the ground by the shoulders. "Just leave me alone! Scram!" Aaron nodded.

"Okay, dude, just trying to help."

"I don't need no help from you," Bobby sighed angrily. 

"Then who from?" Aaron asked. He stood back up and shook his clothes off. "From your papa or perhaps God?"

"It wouldn't be bad if God would help me now." Bobby shrugged. 

"Hey, man, I thought you were over all that religious stuff."

"I am, I am. I'm just saying that it would be nice if God still cared about me," Bobby prompted. 

"That's why you ran, remember? Because God didn't care! He turned his back on you!" Aaron hollered. He shook his finger in Bobby's face. "You can't be no member of my gang if you're going to be all godly on me now, Bob. You can just leave!"

"Hey, I'm no godly guy! I still believe that God doesn't care about me, and He did turn His back on me!"

"Okay, cool. Now, man, come on back. Your girlfriend is weeping over your disappearance." Aaron smiled.

"For the last time, Aaron, she's not my girlfriend! Now just get your hand off of me and I'll be fine." Aaron nodded and released the grasp that he had around Bobby's neck. 

"I know she's not, dude, 'cause she's mine." He smirked as they walked back through the woods and to the temporary hideout they occupied. Bobby let out a sudden laugh and gave a punch to his friend's arm.

"By the way, are we cool?" he asked. Aaron shrugged his shoulders and then nodded. 

"Good thing you guys are back," Sydney whispered. "Rumor has it that child services is out looking for us…see?" Sydney held the mini-radio up to the two boy's ears. Sure enough, the DJ was announcing the four teen's names in the missing child reports. "If they catch us, we'll probably go to jail for life sentence."

"So what?" Ron asked. "That would be better than hanging around this dump."

"This ain't no dump, you punk," Aaron said with a roll of his eyes. "If this is how you'll think of my gang, then you're out!"

"Just pulling a joke, man," Ron said, backing up. Aaron laughed.

"You sure are a punk, isn't he, Bobby? Look how scared he is!"

"Na," Bobby put in. "He's a wimp."

"Aw, that describes him good," Sydney chimed. She sat down next to Bobby on the ground. 

"You know, guys, I don't know why I ever joined this thing," Ron sighed.

"We needed you, Ronny," Aaron explained. "You're the one with the brains. You maintain our ammunition and make our bombs. Without you, we wouldn't have the explosives."

"I suppose you're right. Just say that you need me one more time," Ron joked. He ducked as Aaron reached over and hit him on the head. 

"Hey, sirens!" Sydney whispered. She gestured towards the distance. "We better make a move on it. If we run into any police, there's no way we can escape. I mean, come on, we're already on the radio."

"We're the famous quadron," Bobby laughed. "We could come down in history as the four who killed."

"Dude, that'd be sweet," Aaron sighed. He gathered up his backpack and other supplies that he could carry. "The girl's right, let's scram."

"The girl?" Sydney asked in an astonished tone. "Since when am I the girl? I have a name you know!" she snapped. 

"So, you're my girl so I can call you what I want!" Aaron called back with a grin. 

"I am not!" Sydney screamed. She chased after Aaron and threw him down on the ground with a simple blow.

"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed. "What a girl."

"Excuse me?" Aaron said, standing up. His cheeks were turning red with embarrassment. "I let her do that!"

Sydney brushed her hands together and took the lead in front of all of the boys. She shot a glare at Aaron with her blue eyes.

"I'm no one's girl!" she called behind her. Aaron just stood there, still bewildered, for inside he knew he didn't let her push him down. 

"Whatever!" Aaron exclaimed. He rolled his eyes. When he finally met his two friend's glances he shrugged. "What?" he added innocently and walked ahead of them. Ron and Bobby exchanged looks and laughed silently. 

"Some girl of his," Ron said under his breath. 

*I'm not quite sure if Andrew has ever been a firefighter before. Does anybody else know?*


	9. Chap Eight, In My Dreams

Disclaimer: The two songs in this chap, the first one "Around the Corner of Your Eye" belongs to Ateens, the second one "With All That I Am" (also belongs to Ateens; guess I just like them…not really, but the songs fit in good)

Monica sat at the window, peering out. A few hours before, she had been again mad at Andrew, but now, she was worried about him. It was already ten-thirty and the streets were pitch black. Brian had come home from school with a black and blue mark from getting in a fight, Rose had come home with a D on her History exam, and Andrew hadn't come home; that was the problem. She had thought the latest fight would soon pass, but maybe that wasn't what Andrew had thought. It had been at least six hours since he had left. And now, as Monica stared out the window, the realization that maybe he wouldn't be coming home struck her. The thought was almost funny at first, about her waiting for him to get home. It sounded hilarious as she silently thought it over. Never in the past had she been awaiting for his presence in their own household. But then, as the minutes passed and the night turned to twilight, (which in this case means that you can't tell the difference between a black and white string for it's so dark) her emotions came to drown out her anger. She did love him and care for him still; it was just that grudge that was getting in the way. Suddenly, Tess' words came to rest upon her dreary soul.

__

"Grudges don't hold onto themselves, there's always someone holding onto them."

Was it true? Was she the one holding onto the grudge? Was she the one responsible for this whole messed up situation? How long would this human form take to ware off? Then, the beeping of the clock, informing her that it was the next hour, shattered her abashed thoughts. It was already eleven and Andrew had to work tomorrow. Surely, even though the whole job thing was new, he wouldn't forget that. And him being a fireman, he had to wake up early and go to bed late. And would he have to spend his nights in the firehall, awaiting the bell to ring? Wouldn't she get lonely for him if that kept up?

"Maybe," she whispered quietly, "If I go to sleep, when I wake up, I'll be home, and in God's presence once again. Why am I waiting up for him? He'll be angry at me if he comes home anyway." So Monica decided to sleep, thinking that that would clear her thoughts. She carefully crawled under the silky covers of the grand bed and sighed as he head fell upon the soft pillow. She reached up for the lamp and turned it off. She shut her eyes, but her mind remained on one person. All through the hours that passed, she thought of him. She couldn't help it. As she slowly drifted off, her dreams still revolved around Andrew. 

__

If you're lost without me, wondering where I might be,

I'll be waiting just around the corner of your eye,

Like an angel watching.

Meet me when you're dreaming.

I'll be waiting just around the corner of your eye.

Monica raised her head off the pillow so quickly that she almost scared herself. She turned around just in time to see a figure leaving the room at a fast pace. Her first instinct was to call out to him.

"Andrew? Andrew, wait." She flung the covers aside and leapt off the bed. He hesitated and then stopped, but then immediately continued out. "Andrew! Andrew, please wait," Monica called softly. He slowly turned around and folded his arms against his chest.

"What?" he managed sternly. Monica looked at him and then glanced back at the glowing digital clock. 

"It's one-twenty, how can you say what? Where were you? I waited for you until eleven-ten, then I couldn't stay awake any longer. I was…I was worried." She touched his arm, but then quickly let her hand down and looked at the ground.

"Well, that's a surprise," he mumbled. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Just came to get my pajamas."

"Where were you?" she asked again. 

"I told you where I was going to be before, Monica. I was on a walk…"

"For about seven hours? What kind of walk is that?" she asked him. He just shrugged.

"A long one…the kind where you get to think in peace." He managed a slight and quick smile and walked down the hallway and down the stairs, heading for the living room. 

"Goodnight," she called. But there was no answer. She looked down and frowned. How much damage had she done to him that he was ignoring her?

After he had put on his shorts and T-shirt, Andrew fell onto the couch and immediately closed his eyes. Why had he not wanted to face her? She seemed to have forgotten about everything. But he, no, he hadn't. The fact that she had acted like that towards him earlier still upset him. And the way he had acted towards her, it surprised him greatly. Why did he get so angry at her for just a little thing? It was like he was…scared? No, couldn't be. But as he thought more, he came to realize he was. But scared to face her, or scared to tell her his new feelings, he couldn't tell. He decided to leave it and ponder it in the morning. What he didn't know was that his dreams would grasp his mind while he slept. 

__

Verse One  
Last night, I came home too late, and you were there waiting.

I know it's easy to call.

I guess I wasn't thinking of you.

It's not that I don't care you should know me better by now. 

Chorus  
I am sorry that I made you lonely and sad, I am sorry I made you feel bad.

What I am trying to say is I'm not always that way,

So love me for all that I am.

Verse two  
I know I often forget to say that I love you.

And yes, I truly regret the times I might have hurt you that way.

I guess I wasn't thinking of you.

It's not that I don't care you should know me better by now. (chorus)

"Huh?" Andrew awoke to the phone ringing. He shook his head. His dreams were getting to him. He picked up the phone and answered it in a gruff voice. "Hello?"

"Hi, I'm calling on behalf of the community. We need this fighter at the hall. I'm sorry to disturb you and your family so early, but two called in sick," a familiar woman's voice said.

"Tess?" Andrew asked in a surprised voice.

"Oh, Angel Baby, it's you. They just gave me a list of numbers with a last name. I wasn't sure…say, Dahline is your last name. Pretty, Baby, pretty."

"Tess, why are you calling me?" Andrew asked in a confused voice.

"Oh, you didn't know that you worked at the fire hall?" she asked.

"Oh, that's why. But it's only three in the morning," Andrew groaned as he glanced at the grandfather clock above him. 

"I'm sorry, Baby," she said. "Say, how are you and Miss Wings…"

"Tess!" a stern voice in the background cut her off. Andrew stared into the phone and smiled. Right away he recognized the strong tone. 

"Uh, Angel Boy, I have to go…"

"Now!" the stern voice said. "You just had a simple order. Pick up the phone, dial, and notify each fighter that they were needed."

"Yes, Sam," Tess sighed. "Bye, Angel Boy, see you soon…"

"Tess!" Sam hollered. Andrew smiled and said goodbye. He stood up and yawned, realizing how tired he was. He had been out so late. Maybe Monica was right, maybe he should've told her…no! He didn't have to let her know everything about his life. That was his own business.

"Andrew? I heard the phone ring. Is everything all right?" the intimate Irish lilt asked sleepily.

"Yeah, I just got to go work," he mumbled, not even locking eyes with her. In fact, he didn't even look at her, and that's what he intended to do. 

"Are you still…"

"I think I'll get some breakfast at the fast food place down the block on my way." Andrew folded the blanket carefully on the couch-at least it was careful to his eyes. To a woman, it would be very messy. 

"I can make you something," Monica said. She flicked on the light. Andrew covered his eyes and squinted. 

"No, I already said that I'd pick up something. So that's what I'm going to do," the obstinate angel of death replied.

"Andrew, seriously, stop being so stubborn," Monica said. She finally got him to look at the little Irish face. "I'm going to make you something." Before he could answer, she ran into the kitchen and he heard the fridge open and the stove turn on.

"For goodness sakes, God, how do you expect me to argue with that?" He pointed towards the kitchen, a light streaming out of the doorway and onto the floor. 

__

"I don't, Andrew, I don't." 

Andrew could almost hear his conscious biting his ear. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. The tired and weary angel walked into the kitchen and right away caught glance of the petite woman running around as quickly as possible. She was everywhere at once in the huge kitchen. Only a few minutes later, Andrew found himself seated at the table across from the auburn, a pile of waffles and a nice cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He grabbed the fork in front of him and smiled. 

"Should I be afraid?" His words startled himself. What happened to the grudge. It seemed like they both had their times when they would forget about it. Monica just beamed wildly and shook her head.

"No, I just microwaved them. The coffee I made, but hey, I make the best coffee right?" she asked in a cheery tone. They both laughed, filling the room with a long wanted joy and happiness. 

"Actually, they're good and so is the coffee." He managed to blow a kiss at her and she giggled. 

"How are you going to get used to getting up this late?"

"You mean this early?" He took another bite. "Well, if I have to I have to. Say, guess what. Tess works at the hall."

"Really?" Monica eagerly asked. "Can I bring you to work?"

"Sure, why not…oh, except one problem, Sam was there and I bet he still is. It appears that Tess is only supposed to interact with us as long as she promises not to say anything about you-know-what."

"So Sam is supervising her and making sure she doesn't?" Monica asked.

"I guess. Okay, I'm done…it was awfully good. Now, it's off to work." 

"Okay," Monica said. "Oh, Andy, you probably want to get dressed and comb your hair." She giggled. Andrew glanced down at the T-shirt and then looked up at his blond hair that was going every which way. 

"I suppose you're right." He laughed with her. For the moment, the angels had forgotten the grudge. 


	10. Chap Nine, Collision Course

"We've got a call, Sam, and I know you're new so I'll lead," Greg told his partner. Sam shot a nod and gathered the supplies that were necessary. 

"Rockford? That's where they were? That must be nearly fifty miles from here. How'd they get so far ahead of us?" the young, blond petite asked. She scratched her head. "They have connections."

"Must have. Okay, let's get on the move, people!" Greg ordered. Sam and Jennifer followed. 

It was only about an hour later when the three rode down the highway, passing into a small town in the outskirts of Illinois. Sam was busy in thought of the past assignment when they passed a tremendous crash scene that made his jaw drop. He knew he had seen that tipped over car before, but where?"

"Wow, someone sure had a wreck," Greg announced, shattering the angel's thoughts. Sam absentmindedly nodded and sighed. Then reality hit him and his past thoughts came back. Where had he seen that car?

"Yeah, I heard about it in the news last night," Jennifer explained. "They have to leave everything that was involved in the accident there, for they don't quite know who's at fault yet. I guess the one driver died. She was only in her twenties. The other two were a couple. The woman was driving her husband to work. As far as the files go, he's been working at the firehall across town for more than seven years. When they were showing the wreckage on TV, they told that the wife was put into critic condition, and not expected to live. The husband…actually, it's quite a miracle. The husband was looked over, and the doctors found no serious injuries. They showed a picture of him on TV. He's nice looking. Short, blond hair, blue eyes, and a heck of a beautiful wife. She has shoulder-length auburn hair, exquisite brown eyes, and the prettiest smile.

"Um…Jennifer, did they happen to the name the two victims?" Sam asked nervously, hoping he wouldn't hear what he just knew was about to flow from her lips.

"Yeah, actually they did. She was a Mary…no…maybe it was M…Martha…. No, not quite. It started with an 'm' though. Oh! I know, Monica! Yeah, I remember thinking of how beautiful a name that was. He was Adam…I think. No, it was Andrew. Yeah, now I remember. Andrew and Monica Dahline!"

Sam nearly stopped breathing as he studied the crash scene one more time. Then, the car, once again, started to move pulling away from the red stoplight that had just turned green. The angel sank down in his seat. He closed his eyes tightly and held his breath. He knew he had recognized the car. When he and Tess had gone to the house that the two younger angels were staying at, they had observed things ahead of time. Sam had thought he knew what was going on in the Plan, but now, things were not looking as clear as he had expected. 

"God, I know you can do anything," Sam said silently. "So heal your angels."

"I don't understand!" Andrew snapped in the officer's face. "We didn't…she didn't do anything wrong. That maniac woman pulled out right in front of us!"

"Calm down, son," the eldest policeman said. He laid a hand on Andrew's back that the angel immediately threw off. "I know you're upset…isn't everyone else who gets put in this kind of situation? But you have to understand that sometimes it is easy to go through a red light…"

"We did not go through a red light!" Andrew spat. He rolled his eyes and then rested his head in his hands. "Like I said, the lady pulled out in front of us…"

"Officer McKellen, the three teens that were missing were reported found and in this very town. The child services are on their way, but if we could just track them down and find them, then we could do a whole lot for those child services," the younger officer said, storming into the room where Andrew was being questioned. "Get anywhere with our Mr. Dahline?" Officer McKellen shook his head.

"Send out some of ours, but first," the eldest began. "But first make sure you get enough info and evidence that these are the ones."

"You're not going to believe this either. The woman who reported them said that they stole food from the diner. Actually, the woman who reported them works in that diner down the road. She called about fifteen minutes ago."

"Well, Kevin, like I said, make sure…"

"Dad! I've had enough of this! I know what I'm doing just as well as you do!" Kevin yelled. He took one last, angry glance at Andrew and stomped out of the room.

"That's my boy…he'll never listen to me. Nope! I'm just his old man." Andrew sat silent and looked up from his burrowing place. "So, what was I saying? Oh, yes. Now, Andrew, can you tell me anything about last night? Anything will do."

"Yes, I can! We're not guilty! I can even remember Monica just stopping for the red light when all I saw was a bright light in front of us. The idiot went through her orange light. Doesn't the orange mean: caution? Isn't that why they give you a warning, so people know that they are other's on the opposite side of the street?" Andrew buried his again and let out a heavy sigh.

"Well," Officer McKellen began. "Doesn't look like I'm going to get anymore out of you this morning. I'll take you back to your cell."

"I can't believe you're holding me!" Andrew yelled. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Why don't you believe me?"

"Son, if I believed every single human being who came into this tiny chamber, where would I get? Huh? What if I believed every murderer and criminal that told me that they didn't do it?"

"I'm not a murderer or a criminal. I'm an angel!" Andrew cried. 

"Good one," the officer laughed. "And I'm God. You know, I've heard people say that they're rich and that they've got connections to get them out of here, but an angel…well if that ain't dumb and totally original, I don't know what is."

"I _am _an angel!" Andrew told the policeman. "I truly am! Oh, God, I need a little backup here." Andrew looked up and McKellen broke the silence.

"So, you would be doing what?"

"This is usually the part when I start to glow…" Andrew began. He realized how totally humiliated he felt. No light, no words, no one. Why wasn't God helping him? That's when he remembered how human he was now. 

As the officer led him back to his cell, Andrew thought about the past night's events. What if Monica had really killed that woman? What if she and him were responsible? Would the Father let them go to jail and suffer a life sentence…or what if…no, angels couldn't…but they weren't angels anymore. They could even be sentenced to the chair. Andrew shook his head as the heavy gate swung shut and he was left sitting in darkness, only the rising sun peaking through the tiny window. God wouldn't let that happen to me…to Monica. He just couldn't.


	11. Chap Ten, An Angel In Jail

"I think they're on our tail!" Ron cried behind his shoulder as the four dashed frantically through the thicket.

"Really, punk?" Sydney asked sarcastically. She stopped suddenly when her eyes fell upon the sight ahead of them.

"Stick your hands up, young lady," an officer ordered, a gun pointed at her head. 

"Guys, run!" she cried in the darkness, knowing that the three had already made an eager attempt to escape.

"Not so fast!" another cop ordered. Ten or more officers surrounded the terrace, definitely not going to let any of the troublesome teens get away. Aaron growled as a lady officer handcuffed him and pushed him on the ground. She searched him, then pulled the gun out of his shoe. One other did the same with Ron. But as Aaron searched the wood, he found no trace of Bobby. He almost gave a sigh of relief, thinking that Bobby had made his escape safely. 

__

Go, Bob, go. You'll make it; I know you will.

On the way to the patrol car, Sydney and Aaron exchanged glances, Aaron notifying his friend that Bobby wasn't caught. Sydney gave him a knowing look and the officers jammed them into different cars. They were separated for the time being, on their own in their escape plans. But did they have one?

"Mom?" a small voice called. Brian dashed into his parent's room and jumped onto the bed. He was surprised to find the grand bed empty, only sheets pulled back covering the mattress. "Mom, Dad?" he asked again. "Rose!" he cried. A grumbling teenage girl paced slowly into the room, rubbing her eyes and yawning. 

"What is it?" she murmured. 

"Mom and Dad aren't here!" Brian replied with wide eyes. Rose just stretched.

"Did you look downstairs?" she asked, her voice crackling from still being half-asleep.

"Yes, they're not there…they're not here!" the nine-year-old exclaimed. For a moment, Rose opened her eyes all the way, almost scared at her little brother's remark. 

"That's preposterous, they wouldn't leave us without telling us. I know really early this morning that Mom brought Dad to work…I hope they're okay!" Rose told her little brother. She ran downstairs and grabbed the phone, immediately dialing Andrew's cell. To her disappointment, the line was dead. Instead of a ring sounding in her ears, a knock at the door shook the house. Rose carefully motioned Brian to stand behind her when she answered. She swung the heavy door open, nearly whipping it off its hinges. "Mom?"

"Excuse me, are you Rose?" a man asked her. She nodded. He was dressed in a typical policeman uniform, a clipboard and pen in his hand. "Good, I have some bad news to tell you. You're Mom and Dad isn't coming home. They were in a terrible accident. Your father is being held in the city jail for murder and your mom is in critic condition and not expected to…"

"You mean Mom's going to die?" Brian asked, stepping out shyly from his spot behind Rose.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that…" the policeman began.

"You didn't realize that there was a little boy here, huh?" Rose asked, her voice upset.

"No…"

"You didn't realize that you were saying things that little ears shouldn't hear. He is only nine! How is he supposed to deal with the fact that his Mom might not live?" Rose asked, trying to shut the door.

"Excuse me, but I'm sorry. I have distinct orders to bring you to childcare services until further ado."

"We're not orphans, Officer whoever, we have to parents who are both still alive! I want to see them both! And what do you mean my dad murdered someone?"

"The car crash. Your car rammed…"

"Are you sure it's their fault?" Rose asked, pushing Brian into the kitchen and locking the door from the outside. Brian fell against the door, trying to open it among Rose's weight. When he realized that he wouldn't be able to open it, he leaned his ear against the crack and tried so hard to listen to the conversation between the police officer and his big sister.

"No, miss, not yet. But until then we have to hold your father. It's the law…"

"I can't believe this!" Rose screamed. Tears started to stream down her flushed cheeks.

"Chicago Child Services is a great place and I assure you that we have to best…"

"I want to see my parents!" Rose screamed. 

"I might be able to make it possible for you to see your dad, but your mom is in surgery and it…" Rose cut the cop off once again.

"I want…I need to see both of them. Now," she said quietly. "Brian needs to. She leaned her back against the wall in the hall and slid down to the floor. "Please, officer."

"Where is Andrew?" Ryan asked Tess as he entered the hall from his usual laps.

"I don't know, Baby, I don't know. I called him and he said he'd be here…yesterday. Maybe something important came up." Tess felt like contacting Sam at once and finding out the info she needed. This was torture; not knowing anything about her two angel babies for a day. Where was her Angel Boy?

"Okay, well then I'll be on my way home," Ryan said. He threw Tess his daily paper work. She let out a sigh. 

"What did I say about throwing things at ladies?" she demanded.

"Oh, sorry, miss," Ryan almost laughed. "Just been a long day, that's all. You know, it is really weird, Andrew usually calls or something if he's going to be late or not coming at all. I hope he's all right."

"Me too, Baby," Tess said. She said mentioned nothing about overhearing him and Jim in the workout room the other day. She thought it best not too until the Father instructed her. 

She reached down and flicked on the radio. 

__

Yesterday, there was a terrible town in Rockford. The three victims have now been identified. One, Julia Madison was killed, and the other two are still alive. Though, Monica Dahline, the wife is in critic condition and her husband, Andrew Dahline is hardly scratched though remains in jail for murder. He will have a trial on Saturday. If Monica does not make it, which she is expected not to, Andrew will pay her punishment: a life sentence or death at the electric chair. This is Andy Taylor, reporting to you live from KDHR. 

Tess gulped. She finally understood. But yet, she was still confused. She reran the words of the announcer in her mind. No, it couldn't possibly be true. Monica couldn't be in critic condition. Andrew couldn't be in jail. No, something wasn't right. It was as if something was blocking her mind from hearing this ahead of time, some evil. But what? Just then, she looked up and saw Ryan standing in the doorway, his gray eyes flickering red. Tess gasped and tensed. He didn't know that she saw him until the expression on her face grew. He quickly disappeared and left a very confused and lost angel sitting all alone in the hall. Ryan was a demon?


	12. Chap Eleven, The Escape

Bobby looked over his shoulder. When he saw no one behind him, he stopped and put his hands on his knees. His breaths were heavy and his skin running with sweat. How long had he been running? He didn't know and guessed he would never find out. 

The morning would soon be coming, drowning the night out in light. He wished the night would never leave. If it were light out, he could be seen easily. For a moment, his thoughts went back to his friends who were now caught and most likely thrown into Juvenile. And Sydney, she had told him to run. How could she have been so willing to give up her freedom for his? Well, that didn't matter right now. What mattered is that he didn't get caught. 

His ears were starting to fill with the dimmed sirens in the background. They were far away. He sat down in the leaves and leaned his back against a tree trunk. He had to rest for a few moments at the least. Now his mind was on his mom and dad. He still didn't want to accept the fact that he had killed his own mother. What would his father say when he found out? What was his father doing?

"Oh, God, I know you probably aren't listening to me, but if by chance you are, keep my dad safe. He's all I got now." Bobby looked down at the ground, half-blushing to himself. He never prayed anymore, so why now? "Oh, yea, and Mom, if you can at all hear me, 'cause I know you believed in all that religious stuff, I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," he choked. Just then, the sirens blared not too far away and instinctively, Bobby jumped up and started running again. He thought it better to get out of there while he could. In just moments, this forest would swarming with cops and Child services.

Tess sank down in her revolving chair. She didn't move an inch. Her brown eyes were held steadily on the door that Ryan had just moments ago exited. Had it just been her mind playing tricks on her or had she really seen what she thought she did. Well, it would explain him trying to convince Jim to carry on with the "plan" the other day. Tess shook her head and stood up, reality finally hitting her. 

"No," she murmured. "Not possible." But as she thought, a small voice inside of her kept telling her that it was. The more she tried to push it out of her head, the stronger it got. Was this her assignment, winning over a demon? But no, Ryan wasn't a demon, he was the devil himself.

Tess swung her purse over her shoulder and walked out of the building, half-expecting to find someone waiting for her. But there wasn't anyone around. Only the regular pedestrians. Then she remembered the announcement on the radio. How could the Father of let this happen to her two angel babies? What was this world coming to? And now, Andrew and Monica were humans. That meant they could…Tess decided not to think about it. And that day, she kept all of her secret emotions to herself.

"Okay, Andrew, you're free-for the moment," Officer McKellen announced to the angel of death. He released Andrew from the tight handcuffs and gave him a starting nudge into the hospital room. Andrew rubbed his wrists and peered at the mark where the cuffs had been. Then he looked up and saw the figure lying on the bed, hooked up to IV's and oxygen tanks. He regretted this very much, but he knew that after two weeks, it was time to see his friend-his wife. 

She was so still, and so quite. He remembered the time when he had had Leukemia. She probably had felt the same way he did, entering the room and seeing the person you love and care for in pain and suffering. But even though he had been in such terrible condition at the time, she tended to him all the time and hardly ever left his bedside. Now he had to do the same for her.

"Monica?" he whispered, though he knew she wouldn't answer. The doctors had told him that even when someone is unconscious, the soul can hear. Andrew glanced back at the officer who stood right outside the glass window. There was definitely no way of escape, he thought as he noticed the rifle that the cop held. "Monica, honey?" he asked again, sitting at her side. There was no response. "I'm here if you need me, for I know you probably do. I'm so sorry that all of this had to happen." Andrew looked down at his orange jumpsuit. "Me being in jail and you being here," he added. 

He studied her face. It was all scarred and scratched up. Her eyes were puffed up five times the size that they usually were. She was frowning, her lips seeming to want to open and speak. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her scarred forehead, his lips quivering as he did so. 

"Oh, honey," he cried and buried his head in her hair. "I love you so much. I should've told you that before…and now…now it's too late. Well, if you really can hear me, I just want you to know that I truly do. Please try to hold on…please, Monica," he wept. His tears lighted up on her face. For a moment, Andrew couldn't tell if they were his tears or hers. "I wish I could tell you more, but I have to go soon-judges orders. The jury voted to see if I could come and see you, and reluctantly they voted yes. I was really relieved, baby girl. I really miss you and the kids. I didn't think being a father would be so hard, honestly I didn't." There was a soft but loud bang on the window and Andrew shifted around to see Officer McKellen pointing at his wristwatch. "Bye, Angel Girl. And no matter what happens, remember that you'll always be my Angel Girl." He planted one last kiss on her nose and cheek, then embraced her as tight as he possibly could, for she would be in pain if she woke up. Actually, Andrew had been hoping for her to awaken while he had been there, but she showed no sign of life whatsoever. 

"Coming, Son?" the officer asked, opening the door a crack. "Remember, you can visit her twice a week. That's all," he said calmly. He didn't seem to care that Andrew was in tears. He just hit him on the back to get him moving.

"So when can I see her next?" Andrew asked sadly. "I need to see her…I need to."

"Well, let's see. Today is Monday, so how 'bout you visit every Mondays and Fridays." McKellen shrugged.

"Fine," Andrew mumbled despite the fact that he was carrying that kind of tone with an authority. 

Just then, a sweet but anxious voice ran through Andrew's ears. He turned to see a nurse with hazel hair and gray eyes standing in the hallway. Her face was full of excitement. She motioned backwards to Andrew and the officer. 

"Hurry, Andrew, and Officer McKellen," she exclaimed. "Monica is waking up!" Andrew felt his jaw drop and a lump of happiness flow into his stomach. But nervousness assisted it. What would she act like? What would her first reaction be?


	13. Chap Twelve, Runaway

Sam's dark eyes pierced the darkness with mixed expressions. He didn't know what to think right now. There was so much happening at once. How did the Father expect him to deal with it? 

"Sam, we've found something," Jennifer announced. She handed him a piece of cloth. 

"Yep, that's something all right. They say that that one kid was wearing a leather jacket and this is definitely leather," Sam observed. 

"_Black_ leather," Greg added. "It might be a little tough to find this missing one. It is still pitch black out."

"But morn is coming soon," Jennifer uttered. She pointed to the horizon, the tiniest peak of light showing. In no more than an hour, the sun would be rising. 

A loud buzzer went off as about eight guards led the three teenagers through the jail doors. Sydney couldn't help but worry about Bobby. He was lost out there somewhere. Who knows where in the world he was now.

"You know, Syd, Ron, I bet Bobby's caught a bus to Minnesota by now," Aaron joked, purposely loud. The guards around him exchanged doubtful glances and Aaron frowned. If Sydney could've, she would of reached over and slapped him right across the cheek.

"Take her to section B 104 and them to section D," one guard ordered. Three nodded back, each taking one of the teens. Sydney shot an almost scared glance at Aaron who exchanged that with a smirk. He definitely had something up his sleeve. Sydney didn't like the thought of them all being separated and by levels. She thought maybe by rooms, but now it was even more impossible to carry on with a plan. How could she possibly know what Aaron and Ron were planning if she was so far away from them. 

Her thoughts were shattered when the sound of the bars in front of her slammed. She looked up and scanned the small cell. It was plain and boring to her eyes. She laid her head on the flattened pillow and tried to shut her eyes, but the sight of other girls, most about her age, staring at her from across the room gave her the shivers. Hopefully she wouldn't have to cause a riot just to get her way. Hopefully…

"Where's Dad?" Brian asked, peeking out of the squad car window. "When do we get to see Mom and Dad?" 

"Shh," Rose said, nudging him on the arm. "Don't talk…"

"In not too long, Brian," he policewoman said. She was driving, Rose and Brian in the back, and a policeman in the passenger's seat.

"You better not do anything to my dad," Rose said in a demanding voice. She wrapped her fingers through the metal sheet of protection in front of her.

"Hands down, young lady," the woman said. Her voice was husky and muscles bulged from her short sleeve shirt. "Don't worry, we still have to have a fair and complete trial. There really is no evidence that he's guilty."

Brian, who didn't understand a thing yet, closed his eyes and shook his head. He leaned back onto the cushions behind him. He tried to concentrate on what the others were saying, but it just didn't make sense to him. What was a trial? Why were they saying dad was guilty? Why were they saying that mom wasn't doing well? Where was she anyway?

Andrew forgot about the cuffs that were securely placed around his wrists and tried to jerk away from McKellen's strong hold. He felt his body being pulled right back to where he was. Letting out a sigh, he realized that he wasn't going anywhere unless this obstinate officer was.

"Now wait just a second, Son," McKellen told him. "I promised the judge to have you back by…"

"My wife has just regained consciousness. Do you expect me to just walk away, wondering if she'll make it till Friday?" Andrew stormed, almost surprised by his own tone of voice.

"Fine," the sheriff mumbled. He dangled his keys in front of him, studying them to find the correct one. He unlocked the cuffs and Andrew tore off at a fast speed. He almost passed the room that Monica was in. Finally, he entered in, his emerald green eyes falling on the nurses all around Monica. He needed to see her…talk to her…know she was really awake. 

He walked over to the bed, tears filling his eyes as he saw how scared Monica was. She was crying out in pain. She was desperately trying to figure out what was going on. The nurses around her were trying their best to steady her, and make her lye back down. She didn't even see him or know he was there-not yet.

"Monica?" Andrew asked quietly, trying to squeeze past the busy nurses. At the sight of him, she practically dropped back down in the bed. She froze and for a moment so did he. Their eyes met and stayed there for a long moment of silence. The tears had stopped falling from her brown eyes. His breaths had stopped coming. There was nothing inside of him moving except the pounding of his heart. He could hear that plainly; that's how silent it was in the room.

She mouthed something, no sound coming from her mouth. Her lips quivered and then an expression came over her face that even Andrew couldn't explain. For a moment, he was scared to know what she was thinking. But what happened next is what bothered him the most. 


	14. Chap Thirteen, The Awakening

Sam's dark eyes pierced the darkness with mixed expressions. He didn't know what to think right now. There was so much happening at once. How did the Father expect him to deal with it? 

"Sam, we've found something," Jennifer announced. She handed him a piece of cloth. 

"Yep, that's something all right. They say that that one kid was wearing a leather jacket and this is definitely leather," Sam observed. 

"_Black_ leather," Greg added. "It might be a little tough to find this missing one. It is still pitch black out."

"But morn is coming soon," Jennifer uttered. She pointed to the horizon, the tiniest peak of light showing. In no more than an hour, the sun would be rising. 

A loud buzzer went off as about eight guards led the three teenagers through the jail doors. Sydney couldn't help but worry about Bobby. He was lost out there somewhere. Who knows where in the world he was now.

"You know, Syd, Ron, I bet Bobby's caught a bus to Minnesota by now," Aaron joked, purposely loud. The guards around him exchanged doubtful glances and Aaron frowned. If Sydney could've, she would of reached over and slapped him right across the cheek.

"Take her to section B 104 and them to section D," one guard ordered. Three nodded back, each taking one of the teens. Sydney shot an almost scared glance at Aaron who exchanged that with a smirk. He definitely had something up his sleeve. Sydney didn't like the thought of them all being separated and by levels. She thought maybe by rooms, but now it was even more impossible to carry on with a plan. How could she possibly know what Aaron and Ron were planning if she was so far away from them. 

Her thoughts were shattered when the sound of the bars in front of her slammed. She looked up and scanned the small cell. It was plain and boring to her eyes. She laid her head on the flattened pillow and tried to shut her eyes, but the sight of other girls, most about her age, staring at her from across the room gave her the shivers. Hopefully she wouldn't have to cause a riot just to get her way. Hopefully…

"Where's Dad?" Brian asked, peeking out of the squad car window. "When do we get to see Mom and Dad?" 

"Shh," Rose said, nudging him on the arm. "Don't talk…"

"In not too long, Brian," he policewoman said. She was driving, Rose and Brian in the back, and a policeman in the passenger's seat.

"You better not do anything to my dad," Rose said in a demanding voice. She wrapped her fingers through the metal sheet of protection in front of her.

"Hands down, young lady," the woman said. Her voice was husky and muscles bulged from her short sleeve shirt. "Don't worry, we still have to have a fair and complete trial. There really is no evidence that he's guilty."

Brian, who didn't understand a thing yet, closed his eyes and shook his head. He leaned back onto the cushions behind him. He tried to concentrate on what the others were saying, but it just didn't make sense to him. What was a trial? Why were they saying dad was guilty? Why were they saying that mom wasn't doing well? Where was she anyway?

Andrew forgot about the cuffs that were securely placed around his wrists and tried to jerk away from McKellen's strong hold. He felt his body being pulled right back to where he was. Letting out a sigh, he realized that he wasn't going anywhere unless this obstinate officer was.

"Now wait just a second, Son," McKellen told him. "I promised the judge to have you back by…"

"My wife has just regained consciousness. Do you expect me to just walk away, wondering if she'll make it till Friday?" Andrew stormed, almost surprised by his own tone of voice.

"Fine," the sheriff mumbled. He dangled his keys in front of him, studying them to find the correct one. He unlocked the cuffs and Andrew tore off at a fast speed. He almost passed the room that Monica was in. Finally, he entered in, his emerald green eyes falling on the nurses all around Monica. He needed to see her…talk to her…know she was really awake. 

He walked over to the bed, tears filling his eyes as he saw how scared Monica was. She was crying out in pain. She was desperately trying to figure out what was going on. The nurses around her were trying their best to steady her, and make her lye back down. She didn't even see him or know he was there-not yet.

"Monica?" Andrew asked quietly, trying to squeeze past the busy nurses. At the sight of him, she practically dropped back down in the bed. She froze and for a moment so did he. Their eyes met and stayed there for a long moment of silence. The tears had stopped falling from her brown eyes. His breaths had stopped coming. There was nothing inside of him moving except the pounding of his heart. He could hear that plainly; that's how silent it was in the room.

She mouthed something, no sound coming from her mouth. Her lips quivered and then an expression came over her face that even Andrew couldn't explain. For a moment, he was scared to know what she was thinking. But what happened next is what bothered him the most. 


	15. Chap Fourteen, Decisions

Andrew winced as Monica gave him such a horrid look. Anger was raging through her eyes and pouring out onto her face. Her cheeks were red with frustration and confusion.

"Monica," he mouthed to her. She didn't respond. "I love you, honey," he said softly. She didn't respond. "Don't you know me-you're Andrew?" he asked. This time she responded, but with tears. If he could've only seen life through her eyes at the moment…how scared she was, how upset she was…

"Mr. Dahline," one of the nurses said. "Would you like me to leave you two alone?" Andrew nodded and the nurses exited the small room. 

"Andrew," she mouthed back, now the anger on her face turning into fear. Was she scared of him? "How…what…why…"

"I don't know, sweetie," he said. He could tell by her voice that she was still weary from being unconscious. "Because God loves you," was all he could come up with. But as he thought over his wording again, he baffled himself. Sure, he told people everyday that God loved them, but how could He when He would let a situation like this happen? How could he tell helpless people that if he, himself, didn't truly believe it?

"Oh, Andrew," she sobbed. She fell against his chest, her head buried into him. "Andrew…" he words trailed off. She shook furiously from the tears. And even as he held her, she didn't steady. 

"I love you, Baby Girl," Andrew whispered. He reached down and soothed her matted up locks of auburn hair.

"What about the children?" Monica asked suddenly, sitting up straight. Andrew just stared off for a moment.

"I don't know…" He looked up at the ceiling. "They are probably being taken care of, Angel Girl."

"By who, child services?" Monica wept. Her Irish accent was clearly gone.

"Shh. Just try to get some rest. You need it dearly."

"But I…" she stopped. "I just can't. I'm in too much pain!" She stuffed her head back into his chest and let the tears flow freely. "I hate this, Andrew…being in here with no way of knowing what's going on in the world!" She winced as a sharp pain flew to her side. She held her hand there until it passed.

"Andrew," a voice interrupted. Officer McKellen walked through the door. "The trial has been rescheduled. The judge wants to see you in this hour."

"But, sir, I don't want to be disrespectful, but my wife…" he paused. _Wife…wife? It sounded foreign to his ears. He had never said that before…well maybe he had, but this time he meant it. _Just as he looked back at her and deep into the brown eyes, realization hit him: he loved her. _I need to tell her before it's too late!_

"Andrew, Monica needs to come too," the officer pressed on. "She's being accused as well." Andrew, shock stricken, stood up and looked at the authority in disgust. 

"I can't believe this! Monica is…do you know how much pain she in? She is under no circumstance to…"

"Judges order," was all that officer said. Andrew gazed back from the officer to Monica. Well, if it had to be done it would be done, he thought. But how?

The car ride was the hardest for Monica. She cried out in pain several times. Andrew had finally convinced Officer McKellen to move the trial to next week. Surprisingly the judge had agreed. Now, six days later, the two "once" angels were on their way to their first trial ever in their long life.

"You okay?" Andrew asked in a gentle tone as Monica winced and squirmed. Her, being the obstinate angel that she was, nodded; though it showed on her face that she wasn't. Andrew opened his arms, asking her if she wanted to lean in on him. She reluctantly agreed.

Laying her head back on his shoulder was more comfortable. At least her side wasn't ramming into the door at every bump they hit. 

"Okay, we're here," the policeman said that was driving the patrol car. Andrew slowly got out of the car, wishing he could help Monica. Instead, the officer came around the side of the car and gave her a hand. Another cop secured Andrew's handcuffs and led him into the courtroom.

"Andrew," Monica whispered before they entered the building. "Whatever happens…"

"Shh," Officer McKellen said. He pushed Monica in opposite direction of Andrew. He sighed, wishing he could've heard what she said.

The whole time that the judge went on and on about how important it was to obey traffic rules and how terrible it was that some one lost their life because two people were careless drivers, Monica and Andrew were impatient. Monica, still in pain, squirmed in her seat, trying to get comfy. Andrew tried to keep his eyes on the judge, but slowly and surely the emerald greens hesitated towards Monica's direction. Finally it was the jury's turn to cast their first vote. 

Monica remembered what it was like to be on a jury. It was somewhat interesting, though most parts were boring. Casting your vote was the hardest: guilty or innocent.

"Andrew," one advocate from the courtroom asked. "Tell me everything that you can possibly remember about that night."

"It was dark and she was driving me to work. We had been in a fight that night, but it seemed to be erased from both of our minds as soon as breakfast came."

"Go on," the advocate said. His voice carried a slight southern lilt. "I need to hear everything." Andrew stared out into the crowd of people that were eagerly waiting for his answer. Then his eyes fell upon Monica and she nodded an encouraging smile at him. 

"I work at the fire hall across town and we were just at the intersection when a set of headlights flashed in my eyes. The next thing I knew, I was being lugged out of the car, Monica next to me. Then she was being hauled away in an ambulance. I had blacked out for a few minutes so the time between that is unclear."

"Is that all?" the man asked. Andrew nodded. "Thank you, Andrew Dahline. Next we will take Monica."

Monica's testimony was similar to Andrew's. Nothing was different. The story was as same as it could be. Now it was time for the jury to cast their final vote. Surprisingly, after what seemed like hours of waiting in impatience, the jury came out of their discussion room.

"We have decided, through much thinking and discussion, that Andrew Dahline and Monica Dahline are not guilty," a young woman with strawberry-blond hair announced. The crowd gasped. Murmurs and words of disagreement among the audience could be heard.

"Please tell us your explanation, Miss Joy Williams," the judge said. Joy nodded and started from the moment that Andrew and Monica had gotten into the car until the time that Monica was being hauled away. Suddenly, many hearts had just changed about the two angels. 


	16. Chap Fifteen, Not Guilty

Andrew smiled as he ran the juror's words through his head. They made perfect sense, and the angel of death was definitely relieved.

__

"Andrew and Monica were on they way to the firehall and the victim on her way to work at the little store gas station. We have enough proof that our two suspects were headed there. For instance: Tess who works at the firehall and is filling in for the regular coordinator. And we have evidence that our victim was on her way to the gas station. Her friend who works there with her, claimed to just have called her and tell her that she had to come in a little earlier that morning. It was already busy. Now, to get to the crash, the couple who was pulled up next to the Dahlines was waiting for the stoplight to turn green. The young man who was waiting to turn behind our victim claims that the light had just turned red when our victim turned. Therefor, Mr. and Mrs. Dahline are found not guilty. Our victim rushed the red light and now remains responsible for her own death. But I do ask that Mr. and Mrs. Dahline make sure to be careful…"

He again smiled. He and Monica weren't at fault and that really brightened his day. 

"Thank you, Father," he whispered. "Thank you so much."

"Andrew Dahline," the guard said, motioning for him to step outside of the private room. "You are free to go. Here are your clothes and Monica will be sent immediately back to the hospital for further ado."

"Yes, sir," Andrew said eagerly. He shook the guard's hand and headed to the bathroom to change. As he was coming out, he caught sight of Monica being wheeled out in a wheel chair to the transport. He ran to catch up to her. He decided to ride with her; she might need a little comforting.

Bobby panted as he ran through the wood, wondering when he would reach the other side of it. He guessed that his pursuers had surrounded the forest. Eventually, he would be caught and thrown into jail. It had been such a long time. Had they given up on looking for him? He was probably famous by now. His name would be in headlines and his face all across the TV. He liked it like that. Hopefully, he was a role model for some kids out there. Maybe they wished to be like him: Bobby, The Crime Stealer That Got Away.

Suddenly he stopped at the sight in front of him. He reached down and scooped up a shimmering object that reflected the moonlight. He right away recognized it.

"Miss Sydney Burns," the judge asked. "Aaron Nelson, and Ron Timothy, do you three know why you stand before me today?" All of them except for Aaron nodded. Sydney, trying not to be noticed, elbowed her obstinate friend in the arm. Aaron, apparently in his own world at the moment, shook his body awake and nodded. "Good," the judge proceeded. "Then we will begin the trial." Aaron scowled and mumbled something under his breath. "Do you have something you would like to share with us?" the judge asked impatiently. Aaron froze, realizing his mistake. 

"No, your honor," he answered shakily. 

"No, really, Aaron Nelson, please, tell us what you were saying to your friends. It really can't be that secret if you were willing to be punished for speaking." The judge grinned as Aaron stuttered out some 'no's' and 'not really's' to the congregation. "Well…go on," the judge ordered. Sydney rolled her eyes when she realized that Aaron would rather stand there all day then answer to someone that spoke to him like that.

"I didn't say nothin'!" he stormed. The judge's face became red and he slammed the hammer onto the platform in front of him. 

"Oh, really? Well, then why did I see your lips move and hear mumbling from your tongue, boy?"

"I said that being here was really dumb and stupid and there was no reason for this!" Aaron finally spat. The judge took a last fling of his hammer and the congregation was silent.

"We will see," the judge said, straightening his collar. "We will see." 

Aaron glanced over at Sydney who was rolling her eyes and casting him a disgusted look. She then turned her gaze to Ron who for some reason beamed with delight. She gave him a why-you-so-happy-look. He gestured to his throat and then pointed his finger towards her. Her eyes widened and she realized what he was getting at. She lifted her shoulder up to her neck, pretending to scratch it, but really was feeling for something. She let a silent gasp. 

"My necklace is gone," she whispered to both of her friends on either side of her. She was lucky and let out a sigh of relief when the judge didn't see her. 

Tess was startled to feel a hand upon her shaking back. She looked up to see Sam standing there, an unhappy look on his face. Tess' face was tear stained and her makeup running from her dark eyes. She tried to smile at her friend and supervisor, but just couldn't manage one. Instead, more tears rolled down her dark cheek. 

"Sam," she stuttered. "Do you know…"

"Yes, Tess, yes I know." Sam sat down next to her. "But that doesn't mean that we can sit around and pout all day. And anyway, if you've heard the latest news, they were found not guilty."

"I know, but I am still so worried about them! I can't imagine what else could happen to them! What should we do now?"

"Pray," Sam said gently. "That's the only option left."

It was warming up and he didn't like that. He was on one mission and one mission only. Whatever that mission was, was for him to know and the world to soon find out. He had been called out on a case-it was an ordinary one too…but that would soon change. The secret behind this mission was so sacred that only five people knew about it. 

"Ryan," Jim said. He motioned to a building on the corner. Ryan let the fire truck skid to a stop, the sirens still blazing. The house was on fire-that was how it was every time. But this time, the outcome would be different-much different. 

Ryan smirked and cast a sneaky glance at his partner. They both tapped each other six times on the hand, signifying that they were ready. 

"Okay guys," Ryan hollered to the back of the truck where all the other fighters held on. "It's time," he almost laughed. "It's really time," he whispered to himself and Jim.


	17. Chap Sixteen, True Confessions

*Been waiting for that romance??? Didn't I tell you it was coming?!! Well, if that's what you've been waiting for, 'cause after all, this is a Monica/Andrew fic, here it is!!*

*PROLOGUE*

"She's all yours," Doctor Parks announced, accepting the papers that Andrew had just filled out. 

"Are you sure she's ready?" the angel of death asked nervously. 

"Well, if you really wished, we could keep her here overnight, but I really don't see any use. It will take time for the pain to fully wear off, but there's no internal damage. Except for the bruises and permanent scars that she has, I'd say that your wife has made a miraculous improvement."

"Okay," Andrew agreed. "I'll take her." He walked into the small hospital room, only to see her looking out of the window. "Honey?" he asked quietly. She made a small jump and turned her head around to face him. 

"Hey," she said. He picked up her hand and squeezed it as hard as he dared. "You come to pick me up?" the Irish angel asked, her beautiful lilt almost completely back to normal. 

"I sure have." He grinned and helped her off the chair she was seated in. They said their 'good-bye's' and thank you's' to the doctors and nurses on their way out. When they stepped outside of the building, Andrew saw Monica take a huge inhale of the lustrous aroma of spring. "Isn't it wonderful?" he asked. She nodded.

"I haven't seen it like this for a long time." Suddenly she let out a squeal and winced in pain.

"You okay?" he asked her, letting her lean on him for support. She blinked a few tears back and again nodded. 

"I'm fine, Andy," she told him untruthfully. 

"I know you're not, sweetie," he said. He cast her a serious look. "Maybe you should stay here one more night."

"Oh, no," she cried. "Please, just take me home and I can rest in bed. I don't wish to be here anymore. I miss home."

"Home," Andrew mumbled. "We haven't been home in ages."

"No, I mean our temporary home, Andrew," she said. "But I do very much miss heaven. How long have we been on earth, anyway?" 

"I don't know exactly, but longer than ever." He helped her into the rental car that they were using, then walked around the front and hopped in the driver's seat. Once he was buckled and the car was running, he glanced over at her and smiled. Her eyes were already shut and she had her head resting on the window. He reached over and touched her cheek. She slowly stirred and opened her eyes. "Here," he told her, gesturing towards him. He reached out his right arm and she hesitantly rested her head on his chest. "I love you, Angel Girl," he told her. 

"I love you too, Andy," she whispered back, then fell into a peaceful sleep. 

"We're here, honey," he whispered into her ear. He stroked a few strands of her auburn hair that were hanging in front of her eyes behind her ear. She slowly awoke and managed a happy, but sleepy smile. Yawning, she sat up and stretched.

"Already?"

"Yep. If you think about it, the hospital isn't too far away," he replied.

After leading her up the stairs and into the house, Andrew helped her into the living room where he carefully took off her jacket and hung it up. She again yawned and he right away knew that she needed to take a long nap to regain most of her strength. He carried her up the carpeted spiral staircase and laid her on the soft bed. He covered her with a few blankets, pulling them all the way up to her neck. Andrew planted a small kiss on her forehead and shut the light off. Before leaving the room, he looked back at her one more time and after a long time of pondering it, he finally decided to tell her the truth when she woke up. But he didn't even really know the truth.

He was glad, an hour later when the child services brought Rose and Brian to the house, asking Andrew to sign a few papers. The two fell into his embrace, thankful to be home. 

The angel of death had managed a delicious meal of pasta and garlic bread for supper. Monica still hadn't waked up and that bothered him greatly. He knew she needed her rest, but it had been at least eight hours since he had put her to bed.

He slumped down on the couch and sighed.

__

"Oh, Father, now what do you want us to do? We've made up and we're all back home…well not really home, but what you've provided for us. How much longer do you want us to stay here?" he asked silently.

"Dad," Brian asked, creeping into the living room. Andrew smiled and opened his arms to hug his son. "Why hasn't Mom come down stairs yet? Is she sick?"

"No, son, she is resting. After the accident, she lost a lot of strength. It's time she regains it and that's through sleep," Andrew replied. Brian nodded. "Hey, bud, it's time for bed. Look at the time!"

"Oops," Brian laughed. "I love you, Dad. Good night."

"Good night," Andrew said. He reached down and kissed Brain's head. The nine-year-old ran up the stairs; Andrew could hear his footsteps into the bathroom and then into his room. "Well," he said aloud. "Guess we could turn on the old television set." He grabbed the controller and flipped the channels until he came to a western. He grinned and turned the volume up. 

Monica silently crept down the stairs, most of her strength back. She tightly gripped the banister. Her brown eyes fell upon Andrew and a smile spread across her pale face. His hair was heading every which way, and he was in his pajamas: a T-shirt and boxer shorts. She almost laughed to herself at the sight. 

"Men," she giggled to herself.

She stood in the doorway of the large living room, still unseen to him. Her eyes took in the mahogany furniture and the pale wallpaper. She hadn't seen it in what seemed like forever. She casually sat down next to him. He looked up, surprised, and smiled.

"There's my girl. I was beginning to think you were hibernating," he laughed. 

"So did I," she said. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and rested his chin on her head. 

"Glad to see you're feeling better, Angel Girl." He felt her warm breath on his neck and realized that it was time to tell her…

"Andrew, can I switch the channel?" she asked innocently. "This kind of stuff is for guys."

"No," he gasped. "I'm watching this! I have to find out if Old Joe is going to die or if Peggy is going to be rescued. There's too much happening right now!" She smiled and reached up and ran her fingers through his blond hair. She planted a kiss on his cheek. He hardly seemed to know she was there, being caught up in the TV show.

"Oh, Andrew," she whined. "Please." She reached over to grab the remote, but he was ready. He swiped it away from her right when her fingertips touched it. Sneakily, he placed it along side of him, on the floor. She looked up at him with puppy eyes, but he was pretending to not notice her. A smirk grew on his face when she leaned over him to get it. She let out a loud shriek when she felt his fingers against her side, tickling her. "Andrew!" she cried, backing away. She batted at him, playfully hitting him on the arm. "Stop!" she breathed. He didn't. 

"Why?" he asked with a grin. 

"Because…" she stopped, for her voice was overcome by trying to catch a breath. She shook from laughing. Again, she made a mad dash to grab the controller. She finally got a hold of it and cradled it in her arms, trying to flip the channels in between her struggle to keep it as long as possible. 

"You don't think you're going to get away with it that easily, do you?" he asked as she stopped surfing when her eyes came upon a romance movie. 

"Yep!" she exclaimed proudly. He suddenly made an attempt to steal it from her and was successful. She crossed her arms and pouted. "Andrew," she mumbled. "I want to watch that!" 

"I don't care, I need to find out what happens to Old Joe and Peggy!" he told her, grinning from ear to ear as she blew weak punches at his arm and shoulder. "If that's supposed to hurt, it doesn't," he told her. She once again got a hold of the remote and tried to pry it from his strong grip. He drew it up to his chest, along with her. Their gazes met and locked and their holds loosened. He pulled her closer, waiting for the perfect moment. This was it, he thought. She stared at him with her brown eyes. He drew her even more closely, if that was at all possible. Her breaths withdrew and she tensed. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. He kissed her softly for a short moment. Suddenly the phone ring blared in their ears and Monica quickly pulled away from him. It rang for a few moments.

"Let the Brian get it upstairs," Andrew told her absentmindedly touching her cheek. He tried to pull her back, but she refused. For a long period of silence, she stared at him, mixed emotions flowing in her eyes. She was confused, angry, and so very scared. She didn't know what to do or expect-neither did he. 

"No," she stuttered. "No!" She pulled out of his hold and slid off the couch. He could hear the bedroom door slam and winced. He realized that he had moved too fast. He should've told her…No, he wouldn't tell her! He just couldn't; it would be too hard and he might hurt her. He was hurting his own self. Andrew slid his back down on the seat of the couch and shut his tear filled eyes. He thought in silence for a few moments, pondering what to do next. 

__

"Talk to her, My Child," a voice inside of his head pressed. _"Tell her what you feel."_

Andrew tried to ignore it, but he knew that he should do what it said.

"I hate love," he mumbled. "Oh, God, why did you give humans hearts if they were only going to get broken?" he asked. Looking up towards the ceiling, he sighed. "Fine, I'll talk to her." With that, he got up and hesitated to walk out of the living room. "God, you know what's happened, and what is happening. I guess I can trust you to know what will happen." He stopped. "It's going to be impossible to do this but…" the angel of death smiled. "Nothing is impossible with God," he muttered over and over again until finally he found himself standing at the door of their bedroom. 

__


	18. Chap Seventeen, An Angel, the Devil, and...

He finally saw the opening of the woods ahead. Still not knowing who would be on the other side of it, he stopped and looked back. They weren't on his tail. The teenager let out a sigh of relief. His eyes searched the forest with eagerness. Then he could hear voices surrounding him. 

"God," he whispered. "I don't want to die. I don't want to go to jail. Please, just this once, help me." The voices were getting nearer and his heart was beating faster than ever. Did he just pray to God? Was it true that God still had a place in his heart? No, Bobby thought, not possible. God doesn't care about me so why should I care about him?

"Bobby," a male voice asked. Bobby turned around, almost lifting his hands in the air to surrender. Instead, there was a man standing there with a brilliant light surrounding him. He wore a child service uniform, but he didn't seem to want to take Bobby. 

"What do you want from me?" Bobby asked, shading his eyes from the light. 

"I'm an angel," the man said. "My name is Sam and God sent me to tell you something," Sam said solemnly. 

"God sent me a black angel?" Bobby asked, annoyance in his voice.

"Why does that bother you, Bobby," Sam asked, triggering the teenager's emotions. "Why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Bobby snapped, running his hands through his jet-black hair. 

"Of course you do," Sam said. "You've seen an angel before, haven't you?"

"No! Just leave!"

"Didn't you pray to God just a second ago? Didn't you ask him to help you?" Sam asked with a sincere smile on his face. "I'm going to help you if you'll let me."

"Why would I want God's help?"

"You tell me, Bobby, you prayed to him. What's in your heart?" the angel asked.

"What do you mean, angel?" Bobby cried. A few tears ran down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away, embarrassed and upset.

"Bobby, think back to the night that you started running. What happened?"

"No! Just leave me alone! I hate God! I hate this world!" Bobby sobbed. He tried to run but only found that the faster he kept his pace, the more he tripped through the brush. And every time he stumbled, Sam helped him back up, beckoning him to listen.

"Bobby Parmeter," Sam began. "God loves you and He'll forgive you for what you've done if you'll only ask him too."

"I might as well die than ask for forgiveness," Bobby cried. "I'm going to be caught in just a moment. My life will be nothing to God after that. I'll just be a jail bum like everyone else."

"No, Bob, God cares about every single thing on this planet. And you want to know why?" Sam asked. "Because He created everything. No matter how far you run and how fast your pace is, God will follow. You can't run from Him. Everywhere you go, God will be there waiting for you, hoping that you'll repent your sins. He loves you so much more than you can imagine."

"Really?" a dumbfounded teen asked, his voice ringing in the darkness. "God loves me even though I killed more than one person?"

"Yes, he really does. Now, I need you to remember past that night you started running. I need you to remember what made you turn your path around. Please, Bobby. If you do, you'll find that living will be a whole lot easier."

"I don't know how, Sam, I just don't," Bobby cried. He buried his head in his arms and sat on the ground. 

"Ask for God's help once more and you'll find something greater than life. You'll find love."

Bobby sat in the darkness and cradled his head. For more than a half-hour he prayed, asking and looking for God's help. 

"Sam," he called out after a long moment of silence.

"I'm here," the angel replied, laying a hand on Bobby's back.

"Am I going to die?" he asked. 

"Sooner or later, yes, just like everyone else on this planet," Sam answered. "But not today or tomorrow."

"Can you tell me about God?" he asked. "I used to go to Sunday School with my parents, but that was such a long time ago. I need to know again."

"I sure can," Sam told him. "Just as long as you listen."

Sydney moaned as a guard pushed her into her cell and slammed the barred door shut. She immediately fell onto the small bed that was provided for her. She didn't feel like doing anything else but sleep. Her one hope was gone-the necklace. Now all that flashed into her mind was memories of her parents. She didn't want to think about them. That was too long ago and it hurt too much. 

"So, what you in here for?" a female's voice asked. Sydney peeped her blue eyes open and shot her sight over to a girl about the same ago as her who was in the cell across the room.

"I killed someone, assisted in two murders, robbed a restaurant, and was on the run for a while," Sydney answered with a laugh. "Yours can't be that bad."

"You don't know," the girl answered, gripping the barred door with her fingers. 

"What?" Sydney asked, a curious expression creeping over her flushed face.

"Let's just say that I've been in here for more than ten years," the girl answered in a gruff voice. 

"So?" Sydney pressed on. 

"I killed two people in a car accident. And if that doesn't sound like something too bad to you, there was a baby in there. She lived-miraculously-without any internal damage done, but it still haunts me to this day."

"Well," Sydney said with a sarcastic awe in her voice. "That's surprising. Did you want to kill them?"

"No, of course not. And you know it wasn't even my fault. It happened right on Maine Street…you know the street that goes to the firehall? Yeah, right at the intersection."

"Whoa, freaky," Sydney said. "There was a crash scene there just a few days ago. I guess a lot of people run that light."

"No, you don't get it," the girl said. "I didn't run the red light, it…" her voice trailed off. "I just don't remember anymore."

"Hey, I know you probably just don't want to admit that you did it. That's how must punks feel after they kill someone."

"I'm not trying to cover up anything, swear. I just don't exactly remember anymore."

"Wait a second, girl, you said you've been in here for over ten years. You're only a teenager like me. And that means that you would've only been four or five when this happened. That's impossible. A four year old can't drive a car."

"I wasn't little," the girl answered. "I was way past that. Maybe in my thirties."

"Okay, girl, if jail did that to you, I'm almost afraid to see what it will do to me. Snap out of it! You're only about fifteen!"

"No, I'm not. I'm way older than that!"

"Whatever!" Sydney said. She rolled her eyes and slumped back down on the bed. 

"Oh, Father," Tess prayed. "Please don't let this carry on today. I know you don't want it to and have the power to stop it…" her voice trailed off. "Oh, dear." She watched the scene in front of her. It was an average fire rescue. There was a team of fighters surrounding the flaming house, some with part of the hose in their hands, and others putting the latter up the building.

"Jim! Come with me. I'm going to need help on this one!" Ryan cried. 

"Okay!" Jim shouted, playing along. "I'll be right up!" He watched Ryan disappear back into the smoky building. "I'm coming," he grinned.

Inside the house, flames were ablaze every which way. Ryan let out a laugh as he flung his helmet off. He searched the floor, his red eyes glowing. 

"Jim," he said his voice now a cruel and haunting tone. "Fetch me the "water"," he ordered. Jim also flung off his mask and helmet and nodded. Jim threw him a pale of a thick, black liquid, definitely not water. Ryan carried it at his side. Suddenly his red uniform turned into a black pantsuit and he walked through the fire, the flames not touching his flesh. 

"Ryan," Jim said, his clothes also black. "It looks as if we've got ourselves an opponent."

"Oh, good," Ryan smirked. "I always enjoy those!"

"Well, you won't this one!" Tess said, anger raging her voice. 

"Look at what we got here. The woman from the firehall."

"I'm not just your ordinary woman," Tess raged. Suddenly her appearance was white as snow. "I think you know this already, but to get to the point, I'm an angel of God. You have no power in the presence of love! Now, by the orders of the Almighty, set the gasoline down-now!" Tess stormed. Her appearance was angelic, but her voice was demanding.

"The Almighty?" Ryan laughed. "I don't take orders from him anymore. I thought you would've figured that out by now."

"Oh, Father," Tess prayed. "Give me strength!"

"Help me!" a small voice whimpered. All three beings turned and gazed through the fire. In the corner of the room, a little boy sat, holding his legs against his stomach. "Please, help me!" Ryan and Jim both started towards the child.

"Satan, if you touch that child, you will have to answer to the Wrath of God!" Tess stormed; her face beat red in anger. Jim laughed. 

"Now, Tess, angel of God, here's your test: answer to the wrath of the devil himself!" Tess almost gasped when Jim's voice switched to a terrifying tone.

"You…" Tess asked, looking back at Ryan. "But I thought…"

"Evil has its way of deceiving," Jim laughed. "Ryan is just my sidekick. He has been helping me for a long time now, faithfully serving me." Tess just stood still and dumfounded.

"I can't believe this. I didn't have any idea," she muttered. 

"Help me," the boy whimpered again. Tess tried to brush past the two in front of her, but couldn't budge the invisible wall of hatred in front of her. Had her temper got in the way? Was her loving heart replaced with anger? How could she fight evil without love? The only answer was that she couldn't.


	19. Chap Eighteen, Forgiveness

Andrew stood in front of the bedroom door, still pondering whether or not to enter. He raised his hand to the door to knock, but then dropped it. Now he couldn't decide whether to knock or to just go in. He put his hand on the knob but didn't turn it. For a long moment of silence, he stood there, thinking and reasoning over his decisions. Then he decided to contemplate the outcome of the situation. If he did go in, what would she do? Would she be angry with him? Would he find her in tears, her back to him?

"Oh, God, I'm going to need help," he mumbled under his breath. Finally, he knocked, turned the golden knob and entered in. 

In front of him was a curled up Monica, lying on the bed, her face down in the pillow. Andrew could tell by her shaking shoulders that she was crying. She was in so much shock, confusion, and frustration right then that he didn't know how to react. 

He sat down on the bed and hesitantly touched her back. She didn't respond, but his hand shook from her sobs. The sight of her crying so hard almost made him fall into tears. Her auburn hair was wet from being in her face. He couldn't see her eyes, but he guessed they were blurry and drowned out by turmoil and fear. _If she feels like I do_, Andrew thought, _she must be very afraid to confront me._

"M…Monica," he stuttered. She still didn't sit up or stir. She still only shook with tears. "Monica, honey," he continued, his own voice shaking. "I'm…" he stopped. He didn't know what to say. His mind went blank of all words that could've came out. "I'm…I'm…sorry, Monica," he said, deciding his words carefully. "I love you so much and I wanted you to know that. Actually, these past few days, I've…" his voice trailed off. "I've had a change in…in…I can't do this!" he exclaimed suddenly. This time, she reacted. Her tears stopped as if she were surprised. 

__

Yes, you can, my Child, I know you can.

Andrew sighed, realizing that he had to do it. 

"Monica," he said more surely. "These past few days I've had changed feelings about you. I don't know…I guess I truly do love you, honey," he said. "And I think I'm starting to get this whole human situation." He stroked her brilliant auburn hair. "I just wanted you to know that. And, by the way, I'm sorry I…well…er…I'm sorry that I kissed you without asking. I rushed things. I mean, I know we're married in all, but we've never actually been…well, to get to the point, we've never actually been human and in love-not that you have to be in love with me…" he stopped for she made a sudden movement. He almost jumped for joy when she sat up and looked him straight in his emerald green eye.

"Really, Andrew?" she asked, her voice shaky from crying. He gave her a sincere nod and stood up. She watched as he started to leave the room. "Wait…Andrew," she said, this time her voice a little more firm. "Please stay." He turned around and faced her, a surprised expression on his red face.

"You want me to…stay?" he asked, the heat from embarrassment really showing on his face.

"Please," she said again. He hesitated and sat back down on the bedside. "I'm so sorry, Andrew," she sobbed. "I didn't know…I wasn't sure…"

"Shh," he whispered into her ear, pulling her into a soft embrace. She buried her face into his shoulder. 

"I love you too, Andy," she said gently. He almost let out a chuckle, and Monica must have noticed, for she looked up at him. "What is it?" she asked him, her tone nearly scared.

"Oh, nothing, Angel Girl," he replied, now the laugh escaping his lips. "It's just that the whole time that I spent it hesitating whether or not to come in here, I thought you were going to rage at me and call for a divorce," he laughed. She let out a small giggle that felt like music to his ears.

"A _divorce_?" she asked in disbelief. "Now why would I want to call for one of those?" 

"You wouldn't and I know that…it's just that I knew-I pictured how mad you were going to be…" he stopped, their laughter drowning out his words. "Aw, just forget about it!" he exclaimed, reaching down and tickling her sides. She let out a shriek and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Andrew Dahline!" she screamed; both of them worried that they were going to wake up Brian and Rose. He stopped, not wishing to do so.

"Shh," he ordered, a smile creeping across his face. Without question, she reached up and planted a small kiss on his cheek. "What was that for?" She blushed and shrugged. 

"I don't know…it was just for good luck." She smiled.

"And since when, Miss Wings, do you believe in good luck?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. 

"Oh, Andy, you know that I don't. I was just kidding," she said innocently. 

"Yeah, sure," he laughed, sarcasm ringing in his voice. Suddenly he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then let out a humph. "Paid you back, sweetie," he joked. She giggled, putting her hand up to her mouth. "So," he began. "Now what?"

"Bed," she answered, yawning.

"That sounds like a good idea." He stood up and stretched. "Um…" he stopped and turned around to face her. "I don't have to sleep on the couch this time, do I?" he asked, worry overcoming his expression. She chuckled.

"No," she laughed. Andrew wiped his forehead.

"Phew," he sighed. "'Cause the bad thing about sleeping down there is my snoring echo's throughout the living-room. Can never get to sleep when that happens. It just gives me the creeps," he told her too seriously. For a moment, she just looked him straight in the eye, her puzzled mind showing in her expression. "I'm just joking, Angel Girl," he said with a laugh. "Sometimes I think you're too solemn."

"Well, for a second there, I thought you were telling me the truth. But then I thought about it. You can't hear your own snoring because when you snore you're asleep…" her words trailed off, as she was lost in thought. Andrew had to laugh at her. 

"Monica, honey, forget I said it. I didn't think you would take it seriously. It was supposed to be a joke and you didn't even laugh."

"Oh," she said innocently, trying to fake a giggle or two. He rolled his eyes in mock disgust and headed to the bathroom. 

When he returned, she was already half-asleep; her brown eyes locked shut and turned on her side. She was still and silent. He smiled and threw the covers aside. She didn't move.

"Good night," he whispered. He planted a kiss on her forehead and then on her cheek. "I love you." She stirred and he quickly laid down. 

"Andy?" she asked quietly. 

"Hmm?" 

"What time is it?" 

"Eleven," he answered. 

"I love you too," she said softly. He smiled. 

"Well, I love you three." She shook her head and let out a silent giggle. 

"You're such a kid," she said, quite disgusted. 

"Thank you."

"That wasn't supposed to be a compliment."

"I know."

"Then why did you say, 'thank you'?"

"What…?" he asked.

"Oh, never mind!" she said, opening her eyes and looking at him with frustration. "I'm sorry, and I do love you, Andrew," she told him, reaching over and resting her head on his shoulder. "By the way, that was supposed to be a joke."

"Well, that's a good thing," he chuckled. "Um…Monica?"

"Yeah," 

"We're cool, right?" he asked, unsure of his wording.

"Cool?" she asked. "Uh…I guess so."

"Cool!" Andrew exclaimed. She rolled her tired brown eyes. Hesitantly, he halfway sat up and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Slowly, he laid a quick kiss on her lips and laid back down. He let out a sigh of relief when she didn't react badly. He only felt the squeeze of her hand on his.

"Good night," she whispered. 


	20. Chap Nineteen, Surrender

"Hey, girl, wake up, they're coming," a small voice called. Sydney struggled to open her sleepy eyes. She sat up and yawned. The girl across the room was waving at her impatiently and worriedly. "They're going to…"

"Megan Doe," the guard called in a demanding voice. "That's enough!" Megan frowned.

"Yes, sir," she said in a sarcastic tone. "Didn't mean to wake the neighbors."

"Sydney Burns, your second trial will begin in fifteen-minutes. We got you a lawyer from out of town. He's…"

"That's not fair!" the teenager yelled! "I want someone I know!" 

"And who would that be?" the guard asked, crossing his arms?

"How about…well…" her voice trailed off and she let out a gulp.

"See, there you have it! You don't know anybody!" the guard called back with a laugh. "Teenagers these days. They think they can get there way all of the time." With that, the officer flung open the barred door and grabbed Sydney's wrists. She winced at the cold, tight metal that gripped her wrists. 

"Good morning, sleepy head. Rise and shine. You've got work today," Andrew called. He scanned a very tired Monica who gently stirred. She fluttered her brown eyes open and moaned.

"Already? But it's only six o' clock in the morning," she whined after glancing at the bright red numbers on the digital clock.

"And you have to be at work by seven-thirty, honey," Andrew reminded her, running his hand through her hair. "And I have to be at work around eight."

"You got everything straightened out with the firehall, then?" the Irish angel asked, her lilt not the cheery sound that it usually was. 

"All taken care of," he replied with a sigh. "They sounded excited to have me back. Now what do you want for breakfast?"

"I'll make it," Monica groaned, sleep still coloring her voice.

"No, you won't," he said with a laugh. "I would like my pancakes without coffee in the batter this time," he joked.

"Actually, to be honest with you, I was going to try waffles with a wee bit of mocha…"

"In that case, I think I just might get something from McDonalds!" he exclaimed, rushing to open the shades. Andrew rolled his eyes and he heard her complain about the sun shining in. She put her arm over her eyes and squinted. "I'll be downstairs," he announced, quickly laying a quick kiss on her forehead and leaving the room. 

Tess' eyes concentrated on the scene before her. She had no clue, whatsoever, to do. For some reason, God had left her for the moment; He wasn't giving her the help she wanted. And even though she knew it was true, she didn't want to admit that the reason might be because her anger was in the way. 

"Now what are you going to do, Angel of God?" Jim asked in a sarcastic tone. Tess glared at him, but found that she was overdone for the moment. 

"Come on, Miss Tess, tell us," Ryan added. He winked at her.

"Father," Tess began her tone scared and shaky. "I need You…I truly do. Oh, Almighty God, please help me. Forgive me for I have sinned. I have let my anger get out of hand and now I look so unclean to You." Ryan and Jim rolled their red eyes. "Father…" Tess prayed, trying to make her voice heard over the screaming flames. 

Suddenly a bright light filled the building, shining out the windows, and piercing the darkness with hope and love. It encircled Tess and a dove lighted on her shoulder. The two men fell to the ground, for the beam batted at their shoulders and set pain about them. They covered their eyes and let out shouts.

"Thank you, God," Tess whispered, realizing that love had just won that battle. But who would win the next was up to God. 

She walked over Ryan and Jim and towards the little boy who stared awestricken at Tess. He wasn't afraid when she opened her arms for him to enter in. He just wrapped his arms around her neck and let her carry him out. 

"Sam," Bobby said. "I don't want to give myself up to them. I'm afraid to know what will happen." He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair and shivered in the cold.

"Sometimes you just have to do what is right, no matter what the consequence is. If you pray for God to help you through this journey, He will. If you ask Him to send His angels to protect you, He will and already has. Just like I said before, Bobby Parmeter, God loves you and cares for you."

"But I can…I mean…I killed her! She was my own mom and I killed her…oh, God! I killed her…" his words trailed off into the darkness in sobs. "I love her!"

"I know you did and so does God. You still do, don't you?" Sam asked in a comforting tone. Bobby nodded. 

"Yeah…yeah I do."

"Bobby, you can't spend your whole life hiding from the police, from what you did. Running from the truth isn't going to change anything. And the thing about running from the truth is that it always catches up to you, sooner or later. And running from the truth is like running from God. And you know what? Wherever you're going, God is already there. You can't hide from Him."

"Then what do I do, Sam? I'm ready to do whatever it will take," Bobby said sincerely. Sam kneeled down next to him and pointed behind his broad shoulders. 

"You need to surrender…and not just to the police. Most importantly, you need to surrender to God. Give your life up to Him--whatever is left of it. Who knows, you could die in thirty seconds…only God knows for sure."

"And how do I give up my life to Him?" Bobby asked, sniffing. 

"Pray to Him. He'll tell you," Sam answered. Bobby nodded and lowered his head. He hesitantly looked back up and to his surprise, Sam was gone. Now, all that filled his view was a bright light. 

"Bobby Parmeter, you're under arrest for murdering Jane Parmeter and for stealing from the fast food restaurant on Highway 55," a women's voice told him. He looked up into the eyes if a young lady. "Stand up and put your hands over your head!" she ordered. Seeing Sam behind her nodding, Bobby did what he was instructed and found himself being handcuffed and led into a squad car. 

"God," he prayed on the way to the car, "Please help me."

"Monica?" Andrew asked. He poked his head into the bedroom. "Monica…oh!" he let out a sigh and put his hands on his hips. He rolled his emerald green eyes and laughed. There, snuggled tightly under the covers, was Monica sound asleep. He tiptoed over to the bed and sat on the edge, trying not to sink down for fear of disturbing her.

"Five more minutes," she mumbled in her sleep.

"I don't think so, honey," he laughed and reached down and tickled on the sides. She jumped up and shrieked. "Time to wake up," he said jokingly. She stared at him her brown eyes wide open. 

"Am I late for work?" she asked. 

"No, but one angel slept in ten minutes," Andrew said with a smile. Monica instantly slumped back down and closed her eyes. 

"Can't you just call the company and tell them that I'm sick?" she moaned.

"No."

"Why not?" she whined in a dreary Irish lilt.

"Because you're not sick and breakfast is waiting." He reached down and slid his arm behind her back and propped her up. "Come on big girl," he told her. "I know you're tired, but maybe if you wouldn't of staid up so late last night."

"I'm coming…just five more minutes," she pleaded tiredly. 

"Okay, you win, baby girl. Five more minutes, but then that's it, okay?" But Monica was already back to sleep, snoring. Andrew laughed and shook his head. He started back down the steps to tend to the French toast he had made.


	21. Chap Twenty, Secrets From the Past

*Chapter Twenty: Secrets of the Past*

__

Screeching. Lights flashing. Screaming. Silence. Darkness. 

Sydney sat up so fast that she could feel her heart thud against her chest. She peered into the darkness, wondering when the dream would stop. It had been attacking her mind for many years, each time a different scene flashing in front of her. Even though it had a miscellaneous ways of showing itself, the awful dream repeated the same thoughts over and over again.

Then the last hearing that she had been to jumped out of the darkness at her and into her mind. The judge and the whole crowd in the courtroom had been shocked to hear her plea guilty. 

"Girl, pss…over here," a small voice directly across from her whispered. Sydney nervously glanced around her, wondering if anybody else in the room was awake. When she decided that no one was, she stood up and walked over the door, gripping the bars with her cold fingers. 

"What do you want?" Sydney asked the girl across from her. 

"You were dreaming." Her blue eyes glowed in the darkness.

"How could you tell…Angela was it?" the teenager asked as loudly as she dared.

"You were crying out in your sleep for your mom and dad. Then you let out a few muffled screams," she explained. Sydney's cheeks turned red in embarrassment. "And yes, it's Angela. Your name slipped my mind."

"Sydney. It looks as if I'll be staying here for a while," she grumbled. Crossing her arms, she sat down on the concrete floor.

"For assisting in that murder? You plead guilty, right?"

"Wow. News sure travels fast in this jail. How'd you find out so quickly?" Sydney could barely make out Angela nod her head towards the small TV that was placed in the upper right corner in the room. "I was on TV? Sweet!" she said, a grin playing her face.

"Yeah," Angela sighed. "But that's not something to be proud of…especially in your case. Actually, I was on TV a long time ago," she paused, pushing a strand of her golden hair behind her ear. "When I killed those two in a car crash."

"That must have been pretty harsh," Sydney said, raising her eyebrows. "I mean, you'll be in here for life sentence, right?" Angela just cocked her head to one side and stared off into another world. "Right?" Sydney repeated. Angela jumped and nodded her head abruptly.

"Yeah," she murmured. "Uh…you better get back to sleep, girl," Angela told her. "Looks like you've got a big day tomorrow. On the news, they announced your schedule for the next few days: packed!"

"I'm not tired anymore," Sydney sighed. "You know how I was dreaming? Well, I keep having the same dream over and over again. I always wake up at this one point."

"What happens in the dream?" Angela asked curiously.

"I'm not exactly sure; can't make out the whole picture. But here's all I can tell you. First of all, I'm with two other people and then there's this big screeching noise. Next thing I know, there's bright lights shining wildly in my face and the two people with me scream. Then all is dark and that's when I wake up."

"Wow. Sounds pretty dramatic…like a…" Angela's words trailed off and her face turned white. "Like a car accident…" she mumbled under her breath. Sydney's eyes widened and she stood up. 

"Car a-accident?" she stuttered. "Wait! Now I remember! After the darkness there's men tugging at me and grabbing my arm. Then I'm…oh my gosh, Angela!" Sydney broke out in sobs. "I see my parents—the two people with me—dead! The screeching was the brakes and the lights were the car's headlights that hit us." Her body froze and her mind fell into a daze. She struggled to see Angela's face through the darkness.

"January 1, 1991," Angela mumbled. Her cheeks were sheet white. 

"Yes," Sydney gasped. "But…but how did you know?"

"Um…Sydney? I…I…oh I can't do this, God! I can't!" Angela cried. She fell to the floor of her cell and let her tears flow onto the hard concrete. 

"Can't do what, Angela?" Sydney asked slowly.

"Sydney," Angela sobbed. "I was the one…I did it…I killed them!" she whispered. 

"You mean to say that you're the one who killed my parents? You're the one who hit us? I can't believe this…I just can't!" Sydney's glare pierced the darkness as a single tear dropped from her brown eye. 

"I'm so sorry, girl. I never meant to…honestly. And now that night is clear to me. I remember who I am."

"And who are you?" Sydney snapped.

"I'm an angel," Angela whispered. Sydney stared at the girl in front of her in shock and pain. How could this be? An angel?

"You're telling me that you're an angel," she laughed. "And you want me to believe that why?"  
"Because it's true. God sent me here twelve years ago to earth. But something unexpected happened. I hit a car with humans in it. I was waiting here for many years, hoping that God would send someone to bring me back home. But he never did. So I forgot who I was as time passed. You helped me to remember it now. I guess I should probably complete my mission—my assignment," Angela said. Suddenly a brilliant light shone about her and her figure glowed in a glorious image. "God loves you, Sydney. He wants to be a part of your life if you'll just let him into your heart. And he's willing to forgive you for what you've done."  
"You really are an an-angel," Sydney said awestricken. "I can't believe this!"

"Why is it so hard to believe that God would send an angel to you, Sydney?" Angela asked quietly.

"Well, where was an angel when my parents died! Huh? Why didn't God send an angel then?" Sydney snapped.

"There was an angel there on that cold night, Sydney," a new voice spoke. Suddenly, a figure appeared in between the two cells. He also shone with the same glorious light as Angela. "My name is Adam and I'm the Angel of Death. I stayed with your parents the whole time. They're with God now—in Heaven. There's no more pain and no more suffering for them," Adam explained. He slowly reached down and touched Sydney's hand. 

"The Angel of Death?" she asked surprised. "I didn't picture you to be like this. I thought you were supposed to have a black cloak with a long bony finger pointing to the grave," Sydney said with almost a laugh. 

"No," Adam chuckled. "In human form, we angels look exactly like you."

"And when we're in spiritual form, you can't see us," Angela told the teenager. "Now, Sydney, are you ready to ask for God's forgiveness?"

"Yes, I am," she answered meekly. "I'm ready."


	22. Chap TwentyOne, Without Love

*Chapter Twenty-One: Without Love*

Bobby sat impatiently in the squad car, running Sam's conversation with him in his head. And as he thought, it really hit him: he had killed his own mother. His mother—the one who had brought him into this world; the one who had been there when he learned to walk; she had been the one who brought him to school on his first day. Now all of that was over. He was going to die soon with no regret and no happiness. As far as he was concerned, his life was over.

"Bobby Parmeter, ready cell sixteen," the officer spoke into the radio. Bobby listened to him and another officer contact back and forth for a few seconds. "Over and out," the policeman finally said. 

"Excuse me officer," Bobby said with a brave tone. "I'd like to know what will be happening to me when we arrive at the jail."He smoothed his jet-black hair back.

"Well, son," the officer replied. "All we know right now is that we'll be situating you in a cell and tomorrow morning you will be tried in court. You better have a good story by then if you're going to plead innocent."

"Actually, officer, I have decided to plea for guilty. It's better to have the true story for tomorrow."

"You understand that you could be sentenced to the chair if you are proven guilty, son." The officer looked back at him in the rear view mirror.

Bobby nodded his head and said, "Yes, I do, but as far as I'm concerned I don't really deserve to live anymore. But even so, is it possible that I could get just a life sentence?"  
"Possible, yes. But don't get your hopes up, son. This judge is quite tough—especially on youngsters like you. He made mistakes when he was a teen and wants to make sure you teens today get the lesson you deserve."

"And he thinks we deserve death?" Bobby asked in disbelief.

"Depends on your crime," was the officer's answer. 

Bobby decided not to say anymore. Perhaps this would be his last day on earth, perhaps it wouldn't be. He had God now, and that was all that really mattered. 

"God, I know you're there," he whispered, "so please help me tonight and tomorrow. Teach me how to love like you and not to hate. Thank you, God. Amen."

Monica slumped onto the couch, staring at her bags that she had left in one heap in the hallway. She was too lazy to pick them up; it seemed like everything that day had gone wrong. Now all she wanted to do was rest and have a cup of coffee. 

"Hey, Mom, I didn't hear you come in," a small voice said abruptly. Monica smiled as Brian peeked into the living room. "Guess what? During school today, we did Science Projects. I partnered up with John and our subject was dinosaurs." Brian's brown eyes lit up with excitement.

"Dinosaurs?" Monica asked as happily as possible. "That should be fun. So what did you two do for your project?"  
"We drew a picture of a T-rex and some other dinosaurs. And guess what happened?" Brian asked his mother. Monica shook her head.

"I don't know, what?"

"We won first place and got an A+!" the nine-year-old said as he jumped up and down. 

"Wow. Did you tell your dad about this?" the Irish angel questioned. Brian nodded.

"Yeah. He said that tonight, we'll all go out to get some ice cream for celebration! Oh, I can't wait! I'm going to get chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chip ice cream with…"

"Hold it," the auburn said with a laugh. "Did Dad really say that?" Brian gave an excited nod. "I'm going to have to talk to him…well, anyway, Brian, that's so wonderful. I'm proud of you, honey." Monica reached down and gave her son a tight squeeze. "Keep up those good Science grades. You're going to need them when you're older."

"Tell me about it," Rose said with a sigh as she entered the room. 

"How did your exams go today, honey?" the human angel asked. "I'm hoping you chose to study last night instead of staying up late and watching TV," said Monica with a stern voice. For a moment, Rose had a guilty look on her face.

"Mom, do we have to discuss this with little ears in the room?" she asked in an obvious tone, motioning to Brian. 

"Brian, sweetie, why don't you go see if Dad needs any help with supper. Huh?" her lilt rang. The nine-year-old luckily agreed and carried himself into the kitchen where Andrew was busing himself. "Now, Rose, how did you do?" 

"Well, Mom, you see it's not my fault. That stupid test asked all the wrong questions in all the wrong ways. I would've gotten…"

"What are your grades?" Monica asked, this time more sternly. Her brown eyes peered at her daughter in disgust. "I'm guessing you have a report card since it is the end of the semester." 

"Yeah…well, here it is," Rose said, rolling her green eyes. "But I think you'd want to hear me first before looking at those letters. They totally lie!" her teenage voice said. 

"Rose, it says here that you failed Math and History class and not to mention, got a C- in English." A frown grew on Monica's Irish face. "And you say this isn't true?"

"That's right! It isn't true at all! You see, this morning, Mr. Burns gave us a review before the History test and I got all the answers right. He gave it to us from the review sheet that we took home to study. I was the only one in the class to get all the answers right. But then when the test came, my mind just didn't work. I mean look at this." Rose compared the review sheet to the test. "They asked all the questions in the wrong way!" She pointed out a certain question. "Look, on the review sheet, they asked us what the largest freshwater lake in the world was. Of course, the answer is the Caspian Sea. But now look at the test. They wanted you to tell what the Caspian Sea was and where it was located. It's all messed up! See what I mean?"

Monica stared at the test closely and managed a smile. 

"Rose, honey, is this why you've been failing these tests in the past?" she asked in her Irish lilt.

"Yes…most of the time. Other wise, it's just because I didn't study hard enough." She smiled slyly and flung her blond hair behind her. "Oh, and, Mom? Mr. Burns sent home something else." Rose handed Monica a brown envelope. On the outside it read: To Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Dahline. 

Monica unsealed it and scanned a short letter with her brown eyes. She sighed, frowned, and nodded. Then she put down the letter.

"Rose, get your father. I'd like to discuss some matters with you." The teenager nodded and gulped. 

"Okay, Mom. This must be pretty bad if you're summoning Dad into this," she said uneasily. The human angel again scanned the letter.

"Father? How can I tell her this?"

******

Rose slammed her bedroom door behind her and leaped onto her bed in one shaking heap. Despite her curiosity, she buried her head in her pillow and let out in sobs.

Angels? Assignments? Heaven? God? What was this all about? There was something definitely going on in her parent's life that they weren't telling her about. 

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she was so upset and wanted to listen to Mom and Dad's conversation. Then her mind drifted back to the subject that she didn't want to believe. It couldn't be true and wasn't. But it had been said that this type of thing was often genetic. Would Brian get it too? She ran the words her parents had spoken through her mind once again.

__

"Rose, honey, Mr. Burns has scheduled an appointment for you under our permission. You see," Monica paused and looked over to Andrew who was just as curious as Rose. "He thinks…we think that you're dyslexic." Rose's green eyes widened.

"Dyslexic…Mom, Dad! I do not have a learning disability. I don't care what you or my teachers say! I'm an normal teenager!" Rose stormed.

"Monica, when is the appointment scheduled?" Andrew asked, taking the letter his wife was holding. Monica handed it to him and looked at Rose.

"Tomorrow and one PM," the Irish angel replied sadly.

"Appointment? I'm not going to an appointment! I am not dyslexic!" the teenager yelled. 

"Yes, I'm afraid you are, honey," Andrew said gently, laying a hand on his daughter's knee. She quickly threw it off and ran upstairs.

"Monica, do you really think she is?" the angel of death asked. Monica nodded.

"Yes. She showed me why she failed her test and it looks pretty obvious. I don't want her to be anymore than she does. I wish she could know that a learning disability doesn't make you weird. She can still be a normal teenager. We'll just have to put her through special courses to help her. That's all," she told her husband in her Irish lilt that, at the moment, was cheery as usual. 

"I can't believe this is happening," Andrew said with a frown. "We haven't been humans for that long and all of the sudden we're dealing with things that seem…well, that seem unfair!"

"Andrew," Monica said quietly, gathering his hands in hers. "We just have to take this one step at a time—little by little. God will help us too. We can't forget that he's on our side."

"But sometimes it doesn't seem like it," he said. "I now am beginning to understand why so many humans choose to hate instead of love. It's all slowly making sense."

"Yes, I know what you mean. When we had past assignments, I often wondered why no one knew the meaning of love. Well, now I understand. They don't know love like angels do. We live in love and harmony every day." Monica sighed and leaned over to rest her head on Andrew's shoulder. He gently ran his fingers through her brilliant auburn hair.

"Maybe we should go talk to Rose now," the angel of death suggested. But the angel of truth shook her head.

"No, I think we should wait till tomorrow. And if she's ready, she may even come down for dinner."

"Yeah," Andrew agreed. "Who could miss my famous cooking?" he joked. Monica gave him a playful hit on the arm.

"Don't soak it up, Angel Boy," she said with her Irish filled laugh. "I'm not that bad you know."

"You wouldn't be if didn't poison your food with coffee," he said, refusing to meet eyes with her.

"Poison? Now I wouldn't use that term! I just add a wee flavor to…everything," Monica explained, unsure of her words.

"I know. But I think the children would prefer having pancakes with coffee beans instead of chocolate chip," he chuckled. "And so would I." The blond reached down and laid a quick kiss on her head.

"Okay. Then tomorrow I'll put a wee bit of mocha in the eggs." She crossed her arms and smiled. Andrew's emerald eyes widened and he faced her sternly.

"Not in my lifetime, honey," he said. 

"I was just joking, Andy. I would never put mocha in eggs. Not a good mix. But perhaps in the milk…you know that's a perfect idea. You put milk in coffee so why not…I need to write this down!"

Before Andrew could object, the Irish angel raced to the kitchen. He rolled his eyes and sighed. 

"Father, please tell me we're all out of milk!"

Rose backed up from the staircase and tore towards her room.

And that's where her thoughts stopped.

She needed to go down and have supper. She needed to ask Mom and Dad why they were talking about angels. 

Slowly, she opened her door and crept down the steps. She could just barely make out Brian's young voice wailing in the kitchen, complaining about how he didn't want to eat his carrots. Rose had to laugh when Dad replied with how carrots improve your vision.

The teenager caught sight of the stream of light coming from the crack in the kitchen door. She reached for the knob, and the stream grew, slowly lighting up the whole hallway. Immediately, she met her while family's gazes. 

"Rose, glad you could join us," came Andrew's gentle voice. He stared at her with loving green eyes. "Sit down. The spaghetti's still warm." He motioned toward a place set next to Brian and him. Rose nodded and wiped a tear-streaked cheek.

"Mom, Dad? Can I talk to you after supper?" she asked curiously. The two human angels nodded and exchanged happy glances. 

__

Maybe she is going to talk to us, Monica thought. 

But little did they know the conversation that would take place after supper would be much different and surprising then the two human angels thought.

******

"Brian, would you please wash the dishes tonight?" Monica asked politely in her Irish lilt.

"But, Mom, I'm only nine and…"

"And a grown up boy," Andrew interrupted, putting his hands on Brian's shoulders. "I bet all of your friends do the dishes at your age." He smiled and shot a glance at Monica who silently praised him for his swiftness. Brian rolled his eyes but decided to cooperate.

"Now, what would you like to discuss," Monica asked her daughter after the three were again seated in the living room. 

"Well, I hope you won't be mad at me, but after I get upset, I always sit by the end of the banister upstairs. You know there's that little nook where the wall goes in? Well, anyway, I sat there after our talk and I couldn't help but overhear you two," Rose explained uneasily.

Andrew and Monica once again exchanged glances, but this time, their expressions were more worried than ever.

"And?" the angel of death pushed Rose on nervously.

"And I heard you two talking about angels and assignments or something like that," Rose gulped. At the sight of her parent's expression she said, "I think I heard something that I shouldn't have. Oh, me and my ears—always getting into trouble!" 

"I'm afraid you did hear something that you most likely shouldn't of," Andrew said with a apprehensive tone. "But," he continued after looking at Monica. "I guess we have to tell you the truth." He let out a sigh.

"Yes, I suppose we do, don't we, Andrew?" the Irish angel asked. She glanced from Andrew back to Rose.

"The truth?" Rose laughed. "So are you guys like some undercover agents or something?" she giggled.

"Something like that," the auburn replied with a smile. "Actually…" Suddenly the room started to glow with a glorious light. 

"We're angels," Andrew said, smiling at Monica who nodded. 

"Angels?" Rose said, still laughing. "But you're my parents. I've known you ever since I was born. I mean, you are my real mom and dad, aren't you?" she asked unsure.

"I don't know how to explain that part. You see, a while ago, Andrew and I weren't here. We were working for God and had a supervisor named Tess. Then we had this fight that caused us to hold grudges. The only way we could learn love again was to become humans and learn a different kind of love that we have never experienced," Monica explained.

Andrew continued, "You see, true love to angels is a total odd thing. We are born in God's love and live in it daily. So to be stripped of our angelic bodies and powers is an experience like no other for us."

"This is so weird," Rose said, her green eyes searching the two angels. "So I've known you my whole life, but you have only known me for like a…how long have you known me anyway?"

"About two months," Monica said with a giggle. "It is very odd if you think about it. It's just like we were here since our human birth and got married and had two children. But yet we weren't? Oh never mind, I don't know how to explain it."

"That's because it's unexplainable. Only God knows," Andrew said.

"So, let me see if I can get this straight. One day you two woke up and you were married? Freaky!" Rose squealed. "But then that means that you have to go back to heaven one day, right?" Andrew and Monica slowly nodded.

"But, Rose, you won't even know we're gone. Though we will miss you terribly, honey," the angel of death said sadly. "Let's tell you a little bit about this angel business so you're not so confused. I'm an Angel of Death." At the look of horror that struck Rose's face, Andrew hurried to continue. "I escort people home after they die. Don't worry. I'm not scary looking or anything on duty."

"And I'm the angel of truth. I bring God's message of truth into people's lives," Monica said.

"So how many times of angels are there exactly?" the teenager asked curiously.

"I couldn't begin to tell you, Rose," Andrew said exasperatedly. He shook his head. 

"That many, huh?"

"Now that you're clear on this whole thing, maybe it's time to head for bed, daughter of mine," Monica said in her Irish lilt. 

"Yeah, I think she's right," the angel of death concluded.

"Okay. But first thing is first. Do I tell anyone this?" Rose asked her parents. Both angels shook their heads. Suddenly the light that had been surrounding them with glory ceased.

Andrew reached over and hugged his daughter tightly. He shut his emerald eyes so tears wouldn't stream out.

"I love you, honey," he said sincerely.

"And so do I," Monica spoke. She also embraced the teenager.

"Well, goodnight, my angelic parents," Rose joked. She took one last glance at them and ran up the stairs. 

"Speaking of love, aren't you glad that we love each other again…and I don't mean with true love but a friend type of love. Even though that I do truly love you," Andrew said with a smile. Monica glanced up at him and smiled. She pushed a lock of his blond hair out of his face.

"And I truly love you too, Andy. We aren't without love any longer."

"No we aren't," he agreed.

Slowly he reached down and kissed her gently. And for a moment, they both didn't care if they never were angels again.

THE END

__

If I speak in the tones of angels but have not love I'm only a resounding noise.

If I have the gift of knowledge, and if my faith moves mountains high but have not love, I am nothing.

Though I know the one who holds the stars in the heavens in the palm of his hands.

And if I give all I possess to the poor and the helpless, I'm still getting nothing

Without love.

Love is patient,

True love is always kind,

Love does not envy,

Never brags,

It's always true,

Slow to wrath,

It keeps no records of wrongs against friends,

We all could use a little forgiveness.

Though I know the one who holds the stars in the heavens in the palm of his hands.

And if I give all I possess to the poor and the helpless, I'm still getting nothing

Without love.

"Without Love", Stacie Orrico

Author's note: Please stay tuned for the sequel: "A Love So Strong"

Also coming soon…"Significance, Part One"


End file.
